The bell rang sharply, signaling the end of another torturous day. Every student surged to their feet with an enthusiasm that seemed to mock Sean Blake's every step. As they excitedly gathered their belongings, eager to escape the suffocating walls of the classroom, Sean remained still. His movements were sluggish, his shoulders heavy, burdened with the weight of the events that had unfolded earlier.
He slung his bag over his shoulder, a useless weight he had grown too accustomed to carrying, and shuffled toward the door. Every step felt like he was wading through thick mud. He needed to escape this place, to disappear from their prying eyes, their whispers, and their judgment.
As he stepped into the crowded hallway, his gaze inevitably collided with Lyra Flynn's. Their eyes met for just a fleeting moment, but the look she gave him was sharp, cold, and full of disdain. Sean's heart sank, and the little shred of hope he had left withered under the intensity of her rejection.
She didn't even bother to turn away with subtlety—her disgust was there for everyone to see. His breath caught in his throat, but he couldn't allow himself to respond. He forced his feet forward, walking towards the exit with a sense of emptiness threatening to swallow him whole.
He climbed aboard the school bus, the last of the students to board. The seats were filling up quickly, but as always, no one sat next to him. It was as though the air around him was tainted, his very presence a curse. Sean chose a seat at the back of the bus, the farthest away from everyone, as if distance could somehow shield him from the toxic atmosphere he felt at school.
As the bus started its journey, weaving through the streets of Zanetopia, the noise of the students around him faded into the background. The laughter, the chatter, the clinking of phones and bags—everything felt muffled. He pressed his head against the cool window, watching the world blur past him as his thoughts spiraled back to Lyra, to his failure, to the merciless laughter of his classmates.
Time crawled. The bus made its stops, dropping students off one by one. As Sean's stop neared, the streets outside grew darker, and a growing sense of unease settled in his chest. It was late—far too late for anyone to be walking alone in Zanetopia's roughest district. The air was thick with tension, and the shadows seemed to move with a life of their own.
Sean gripped his backpack tighter, his heart hammering against his ribs. There were rumors of thieves, gang members, and all manner of criminals lurking in these parts after nightfall. With no magic to defend himself, he was just another vulnerable target. But he had no choice. He couldn't afford the luxury of a taxi, and he knew the only way home was through these treacherous streets.
By some miracle, he made it to his apartment unscathed. His breath came in shaky gasps as he unlocked the door, slammed it shut behind him, and locked it. He dropped his bag on the table, not caring where it fell, and collapsed onto the bed. His body felt heavy, drained from the emotional toll of the day.
The small apartment felt suffocating. It wasn't much—a cramped bedroom, a run-down couch, a bathroom—but it was all he had. The other room remained locked, untouched, as it had for years. There was no point in filling it with anything he couldn't afford.
Sean stared at the cracked ceiling, his thoughts spiraling back to the breakup, to the taunting faces of his classmates, to the weight of his own inadequacy. The tears came without warning. He wiped his eyes frantically, but the images kept replaying in his mind. His parents, the only people who ever made him feel whole, had been taken from him when he was just a child. And now, Lyra… she had left him, publicly, cruelly, without a second thought.
Desperation clawed at him, but his hands were shaking too badly to hold the pendant steady. With trembling fingers, he opened it, revealing the small photos inside. His mother's gentle blue eyes smiled back at him, her soft blonde hair framing her delicate face. His father was there too, strong and composed, his black hair and chiseled features giving him an air of quiet confidence. Sean ran his finger over the photos, as if trying to connect with them again, as if the warmth of their memory could fill the hollow space inside him.
"Why did you leave me?" he whispered through choked sobs, clutching the pendant against his chest.
He didn't know how long he lay there, numb with grief, before sleep finally overcame him, dragging him into a restless slumber. When the sunlight filtered through his window the next morning, he woke with a start, his heart heavy and his mind still clouded with memories of yesterday.
The clock on his wall read 7:30 a.m., but it didn't matter. Today was Friday. The day of the school tournament.
Sean could feel the familiar pang of dread creep up his spine. The tournament was the one day every year that showcased the strength of the students at Wysteria Academy. For most, it was an opportunity to display their magic, their power. For Sean, it was just another reminder of his weakness. He didn't have magic—never had, never would.
But still, he wouldn't back down. No matter how much everyone laughed, no matter how many times they rejected him, he would fight. There was nothing left to lose, after all.
He forced himself out of bed, went through the motions of showering and dressing in his track suit—one of the few items he had that wasn't worn out beyond recognition. He grabbed his bag and left, moving like a ghost through the streets of Zanetopia.
The bus ride to school was the same as always. The other students avoided his gaze, no one daring to sit near him. He could feel their stares, hear the hushed whispers, but he refused to let it get to him. He was used to it.
When they arrived at the school, there was a palpable sense of excitement in the air. The students eagerly poured out of the bus, their faces lit with anticipation for the tournament. But before Sean could even step off, the roar of an engine cut through the air, turning everyone's heads toward the parking lot.
A sleek sports car screeched to a stop, its tires leaving a cloud of smoke behind it. It drifted effortlessly into a parking spot, and as the door opened, everyone's eyes widened.
Dean Ryder.
The son of the city's mayor, and one of the most talented students at Wysteria Academy. He stepped out of the car with a confident grin, his silver hair gleaming in the sunlight. Beside him was Lyra Flynn, her beauty unmistakable, but her cold eyes locked onto Sean before he could even process what was happening.
Her gaze swept across the crowd, but when it landed on him, there was no hiding the venom in her expression.
"Oh, you decided to show up?" she called out, her voice dripping with contempt. "I thought you'd hide away in your little rat hole."
The crowd froze, their eyes darting between Sean and Lyra. The words hit him like a slap, sharper than any physical blow. He could feel the sting of humiliation rising in his chest, suffocating him. And yet, despite everything, he refused to let them see him break.
He had to fight. He had to stand tall, even if he was standing alone.