The following day, Alon found himself in the stifling environment of his high school, his arnis stick safely stashed in his locker, hidden from the prying eyes of his classmates. The whispers that always followed him down the hallway were no longer a surprise, merely an unpleasant reality he had grown accustomed to.
In class, Alon sat at the back, his eyes focused on the teacher, trying his best to ignore the constant snickering and muttered insults from his classmates. He wanted to confront them, but he held himself back, the thought of his father's worry keeping him in check.
As the bell signaled the end of the lesson, Alon was approached by Marco, the class bully, a tall and burly figure who always had a smug grin plastered on his face. Marco had made it his personal mission to torment Alon, and this day was no different.
"Hey, Dela Cruz," Marco sneered, his voice echoing in the now empty classroom. "Still playing with those sticks of yours?"
Alon looked up, meeting Marco's gaze with an unwavering one of his own. "And what's it to you, Marco?" He asked, keeping his tone calm, his eyes focused.
Marco snickered, his laughter echoing through the room. "I just find it amusing. Thinking you can fight monsters with those little sticks?"
Alon didn't let the words rattle him. "At least I'm trying to do something, unlike you."
Marco's face contorted into an ugly sneer. "What was that, Dela Cruz?"
Before Alon could answer, a soft voice interrupted them. "Leave him alone, Marco," Sofia Santos, Alon's childhood friend, stood by the door, her eyes narrowed in Marco's direction. Sofia was one of the few people who didn't ridicule Alon's passion for arnis. Instead, she had always admired his dedication.
Marco huffed, shooting Alon a final glare before turning on his heel and leaving the room. Alon let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Thanks, Sofia," he said, giving her a grateful smile.
Sofia shook her head, her dark hair swaying with the motion. "You shouldn't let him get to you, Alon. You're better than him, and deep down, he knows it too."
Alon nodded, his eyes falling on his hands. His fingers itched to grip his arnis sticks, to lose himself in the rhythm of his strikes. Sofia was right; he was better than this. He had his dream, his goals, and he wouldn't let anyone stand in his way.
Unbeknownst to him, his resolve that day would prove pivotal in the times to come. It was yet another test of his youth, a challenge he needed to overcome. And Alon was ready to face it head-on.