Westwood High's lunch courtyard basked under the spring sun like a scene from a cheesy teen drama. Students lounged around, pretending their lives were more interesting than they were, while a few ambitious types tried to cram in some last-minute studying. It was your typical high school lunchtime—kids laughing, gossiping, and devouring mediocre cafeteria food.
Except over by the back lockers, where things were about to get… predictably awful.
Ian Wright, king of minding his own business, sat cross-legged on the ground with his lunch bag in hand. His glasses slid down his nose as he unwrapped his sandwich like it was the highlight of his day. He wasn't exactly Westwood's most popular guy, but hey, at least sandwiches didn't judge you.
Enter Marcus "The Wall" Grant, the school's walking cliché of toxic masculinity. He strutted across the courtyard like he owned the place, a cigarette dangling from his lips and his goon squad trailing behind him like wannabe backup dancers.
To his left was Cody, who looked like he spent more time practicing his smirk than studying. Chewing gum with the audacity of someone who'd never been told to shut up, Cody was the group's self-appointed hype man. On Marcus's right was Derek, whose personality consisted entirely of cracking his knuckles and looking like he ate dumbbells for breakfast.
"Well, well, well," Marcus drawled, his cigarette bobbing with each word. "If it isn't my favorite charity case, Ian Wright."
Ian froze mid-bite, his sandwich hovering in the air like it might save him. "Marcus, I don't have anything for you," he blurted, the words tumbling out so fast they barely made sense.
Marcus raised an eyebrow, mock surprise plastered across his smug face. "No? Nothing? Not even a little lunch money for ol' Marcus? Wow, Wright, I'm hurt. Truly."
Cody snickered, popping a gum bubble right in Ian's face. "Yeah, Wright. You're breaking Marcus's heart here. Real inconsiderate of you."
"Super inconsiderate," Derek rumbled, because apparently, repeating things was his specialty.
Ian adjusted his glasses, already regretting every life choice that had led to this moment. "Graduation's in a few weeks," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "Can't you just… let this go?"
Marcus let out a laugh so loud and fake it could've won an award for Most Obnoxious Sound Ever. "Oh, that's cute. You think I'm gonna stop just because we're graduating? Wright, buddy, you've got a lot to learn about me."
He flicked his cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with the kind of dramatic flair only a bully with a superiority complex could muster. "Now, let's make this simple: Got something for me, or are we gonna have to get creative?"
Ian gripped his sandwich tighter like it was the Holy Grail. "I don't have anything!" he insisted, though his voice cracked at the worst possible moment.
"Liar," Marcus said with a grin that could curdle milk. He snatched the brown bag from Ian's lap and tossed it to Cody. "Check this out. Maybe Wright's hiding a gourmet meal in here."
Cody tore into the bag like a raccoon in a dumpster. "Oh, wow. Turkey and cheese. Fancy," he sneered, tossing the sandwich over his shoulder like it offended him.
"Hey!" Ian yellwd, his voice high-pitched and desperate.
"Oops," Cody said, tossing it to tye floor, his smirk widening. "Guess you'll have to get creative for lunch too."
Marcus leaned down, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. "Listen, Wright. Tomorrow, you'd better have something good for me. Cash. Snacks. I don't care if you have to bake me a cake. But if you show up empty-handed again…" He trailed off, letting Derek crack his knuckles for emphasis.
Ian swallowed hard, his cheeks burning with humiliation. "Okay.... I got it," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
"Good," Marcus said, straightening up and motioning for his goons to follow. "Come on, boys. Let's leave Wright to his… gourmet dining experience."
As they walked away, Marcus laughed, the sound echoing across the courtyard. Ian sank back against the lockers, staring at the mangled remains of his sandwich.
"Enjoy your lunch!" Cody called out over his shoulder, popping another gum bubble with a wink.
Ian closed his eyes and let out a slow, shaky breath. Somewhere deep inside, a tiny ember of defiance burned. One day, he swore, this nonsense was going to stop.
But for now? He was just another kid in the Marcus Grant show.
Ian sat on the ground, shoulders slumped, staring at the sad remains of his lunch. A few crumbs and a flattened sandwich were all that was left. Around him, the usual crowd of students averted their eyes, eager to pretend they hadn't seen anything. That is, except for one person.
"Sophia…" Ian muttered as he heard hurried footsteps approaching.
Sophia Linfield, his childhood friend and the one person who never looked at him like he was invisible, hurried over and crouched beside him. Her honey-brown eyes were wide with worry, her short auburn hair bouncing as she moved.
"Ian! Are you okay?" she asked, with both concern and anger. Without waiting for an answer, she looked around him for any signs of injury.
"Those jerks! I can't believe they're still pulling this crap, even with graduation right around the corner!"
Ian sighed, brushing off his pants as he got up. "It's fine, Sophia. I'm used to it."
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "Used to it? Ian, that's not okay! You shouldn't have to be used to it!"
Her hands balled into fists, and she stood suddenly, her eyes fixed in the direction Marcus had walked off. "You know what? That's it. I've had enough of this."
"Sophia…" Ian started, but she wasn't listening.
"I'm going to give Marcus a piece of my mind. I don't care how big he thinks he is," she said, turning around and taking a step forward. "That guy needs to know someone's not afraid of him."
Ian's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist firmly. "Sophia, no," he said, his voice low.
She turned to face him, the fire in her eyes softening when she saw his expression.
Frustration and shame swirled in his gaze, and the faintest tremble in his hand gave away how much the situation really affected him.
"Ian…" she said softly, her voice losing its edge.
"Just… let it go," he muttered, looking away. "It's not worth it."
Sophia hesitated, torn between her anger at Marcus and her desire to respect Ian's wishes. Finally, she sighed and nodded, her shoulders relaxing. "Fine. For now."
The school bell rang, its sounds echoing through the courtyard and signaling the end of lunch.
Sophia exhaled, trying to push down the lingering anger. "Come on..."
"Lunch is over anyway. We should get to class."
Ian managed a small, fake smile. "Yeah… let's go."
Sophia gave him a long look, clearly seeing through his attempt to mask his feelings, but she didn't push it. Instead, she fell into step beside him as they made their way toward the main building.
"Don't let them get to you, Ian," she said quietly. "You're better than all of them combined."
Ian didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. But as they walked, her presence beside him brought a small, fleeting sense of comfort. Even if the world seemed intent on knocking him down, at least he wasn't completely alone.
---
The classroom buzzed with the usual pre-lesson chatter. Ian and Sophia slipped in, taking their seats near the back.
Ian adjusted his glasses and stared at his notebook, the day's earlier events playing on loop in his head like a bad movie he couldn't shut off.
Sophia, on the other hand, was already a magnet for attention. A girl with wavy blonde hair leaned over her desk with a bright grin.
"Hey, Sophia! We're going to karaoke after school. You in?"
Sophia glanced at Ian briefly, hesitating. "Oh, uh—"
"Alright, everyone, settle down!" The sharp voice of their teacher, Ms. Delaney, cut through the noise.
She strode into the room, her heels clicking against the tile floor. Her auburn hair was tied up in a neat bun, and her glasses perched at the edge of her nose as she carried a stack of papers.
The students groaned all together but began to shuffle into their seats. Emily gave Sophia a "think about it" wink before turning back to her own desk.
Ian sank deeper into his chair, his thoughts swirling. He clenched his fist under the desk, feeling the lingering sting of helplessness.
'Next time, I'll take charge.'
He told himself. 'I won't just sit there and let Sophia try to fight my battles for me. I have to stand up for myself.'
He exhaled sharply, deciding to stop being the person everyone overlooked.
But before Ian could linger on his new resolve of his, a strange light began to fill the room.
At first, it was a soft glow beneath their feet, almost like a trick of the eye. But it grew brighter, spreading across the floor like liquid sunlight.
"What the heck is that?" someone near the front muttered.
The light intensified, causing students to shield their eyes. Desks and chairs were bathed in the brilliance, and a low hum filled the air, vibrating through their bones.
"Is this some kind of prank?"
"Who the fuck is the person behind this?"
"Damn it's too bright!"
"What's up with this I can't move my body!"
Ms. Delaney's voice rose above the growing panic. "Everyone, stay calm!" she said, though even she took a cautious step back.
Ian squinted against the light. "What's going on?" he whispered, glancing at Sophia.
She looked back at him, her face tense. "I don't know, but… this doesn't feel normal."
The hum grew louder, the light growing bright by the moment. Then, without warning, it erupted into a blinding flash that swallowed the entire room.
---
Ian groaned, his head spinning as he slowly opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the blinding light in the classroom—and now… this?
He found himself standing on what could only be described as a cosmic plane. The sky was a swirling canvas of stars and galaxies, a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions.
Beneath his feet was stone floor, but the edges of the platform gave way to open air, revealing that they were perched atop a massive, flying castle.
The castle itself looked like something pulled straight out of a fantasy novel, with towering spires, glowing runes etched into the walls, and waterfalls that seemed to defy gravity.
"What… where are we?" Ian muttered, his voice trembling as he tried to make sense of it all.
Around him, his classmates were stirring, their expressions same as his. Sophia was the first to push herself up, her eyes around the surreal landscape. "Ian… is this a dream? Or…"
Before anyone could answer, a voice echoed through the air, booming and ethereal, yet filled with an undeniable urgency.
"Othworlders… please, save our world."