Another day dawns for Rayan. It’s Friday—five days since the incident, and the mohawk guy has seemingly vanished from school without a trace. Not that Rayan minds; the guy hadn’t been worth his time in the first place.
As he trudges toward school, his shoulders slouched and his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his face is set in a look of pure boredom. His usually sharp eyes, now dim with disappointment, scan the busy streets around him as if searching for something to break the monotony. But just like every other day, all he sees are commuters bustling to work, students laughing in groups, and the usual energy of London, which barely holds his interest.
_"Tsk, just another routine day at school,"_ he thinks, scowling as he steps over a crack in the pavement. _"Nothing interesting here… same weaklings, no one even close to a challenge."_ He lets out a sigh, frustration growing. _"Why did I even bother coming to this place? Did I really think I’d find someone worth my time here?"_
The memory of his first few days at Evergreen High flickers through his mind: the unimpressive students, the lack of real challenges, and even the incident with the mohawk guy, which had ended before it even began. It was all just… empty. He glances up at the school building in the distance, towering yet somehow unremarkable to him.
As Rayan walks toward the school, his mind drifts back to the conversation that first put Evergreen High on his radar. He can almost hear his old friend’s voice in his head.
_"Rayan, you’re gonna love it there. Evergreen’s got everything you’re looking for. Strong guys, gangs, fights breaking out every other day… it’s a place for the tough, not the weak."_ His friend had grinned, eyes gleaming with excitement. _"And hey, maybe you’ll finally meet someone who can keep up with you.”_
That had been all it took to convince him. Rayan had come to London with high expectations, hoping to find a place where his strength could truly be tested. But so far? _"All talk and no action,"_ he mutters, shaking his head.
As he steps through the school gates, the familiar buzz of chatter greets him. Students mill about, their laughter a stark contrast to Rayan’s mood. He brushes past a group playing a game, the noise fading into the background as he makes his way to class.
Rayan's thoughts drift again, lingering on the notion that his friend had painted such a vibrant picture of this school. _"What a joke,"_ he thinks, rolling his eyes. _"Where are all the strong guys? Where’s the excitement?”_
Once inside the classroom, he scans the room. The same faces stare back at him, all absorbed in their own conversations, seemingly oblivious to the fierce energy he brings. He takes his seat, slumping down and propping his chin on his hand.
Just then, Ethan strides in, his usual grin plastered on his face. The guy exudes a laid-back confidence that makes Rayan roll his eyes.
“Hey, Turner!” Ethan calls out, striding over. “I heard you took out a bunch of guys last week. Pretty impressive for a new kid.”
Rayan shrugs, feigning indifference. “They were weak. I didn’t break a sweat.”
Ethan leans against the desk, undeterred. “Still, not everyone has what it takes to handle a crew like that. You made an impression. So, what are you up to after school? You should hang out with us. We know some great spots.”
Rayan raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite himself. “And what makes you think I’d want to hang out with you?”
“Because I’m fun to be around, obviously!” Ethan grins, clearly unphased by Rayan’s disinterest. “Plus, you could use a break from all this… whatever this is.” He gestures dismissively at their classmates, who are engrossed in their own worlds.
Before Rayan can respond, Nellie walks into the classroom, her presence immediately drawing attention. She has a laid-back yet confident vibe, her sharp eyes scanning the room before landing on Ethan and Rayan. Her long hair sways slightly as she moves, and she gives a casual wave, making her way over.
“Hey, what’s going on?” she asks, her tone light but curious.
“Just convincing Rayan to join us after school,” Ethan replies, his grin widening. “You should come too, Nellie. I promise it’ll be fun!”
Nellie crosses her arms, a playful smirk on her lips. “And miss out on my plans to study? Hard pass, Ethan.”
Ethan feigns a dramatic gasp. “Study? Come on, live a little! We’re talking about some quality time with strong guys and maybe a bit of chaos. You’re always talking about wanting to let loose!”
“I don’t need chaos to have fun,” she retorts, her eyes glinting with mischief. “And besides, what do I look like, your wingman?”
Ethan leans back, crossing his arms with a thoughtful expression. “Okay, okay, no wingman stuff. But think about it, Nellie: this could be your chance to see a different side of school. Rayan here is new, and it would be a shame for him to miss out on the real Evergreen experience.”
Nellie raises an eyebrow, skepticism written all over her face. “And what’s the ‘real Evergreen experience’ supposed to be? Skipping class and causing trouble?”
“Exactly!” Ethan replies, excitement lighting up his features. “Don’t you ever get bored just studying all the time?”
Nellie hesitates, her expression softening. “I guess… but what if I’m not into it?”
“Then you can just leave. No pressure!” Ethan offers, sincerity breaking through his usual carefree demeanor. “But if you don’t come, you’ll never know what you’re missing. And it’s always more fun to explore with friends, right?”
She bites her lip, torn between her usual routine and the promise of something different. “Fine! I’ll join. But only for a little while, and if it gets boring, I’m out.”
Ethan’s face lights up with a triumphant grin. “That’s the spirit! You won’t regret it, I swear!”
As the last bell rings, Rayan, Ethan, and Nellie exit the bustling halls of Evergreen High, blending with the after-school crowd dispersing into the city. Ethan leads the way, hands in his pockets, wearing his usual easy-going grin. Rayan follows, a bit skeptical but curious, while Nellie lags slightly behind, casting glances at the crowded streets as they cut through narrow back alleys toward their destination.
“So, where exactly is this ‘great spot’ you keep going on about?” Rayan asks, trying to keep the skepticism out of his tone.
“You’ll see,” Ethan replies with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the reveal. “It’s hidden, so don’t expect a neon sign or anything. Only a few people know about it.”
“Sounds sketchy,” Nellie chimes in, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Are you sure we’re not being dragged into some weird basement or something?”
“Oh, it’s definitely weird,” Ethan laughs, throwing them a look over his shoulder, “but I promise it’s worth it.”
After weaving through a series of narrow alleys and descending a set of grimy, barely-lit stairs, they arrive at a metal door scuffed and faded, with faint, worn-out stickers plastered around the frame. Ethan gives it a confident knock, and a small slot opens, revealing a set of wary eyes that scan the trio before the door creaks open.
Inside, they’re greeted by a dimly lit maze of flickering arcade screens casting neon glows onto walls adorned with graffiti and stickers. The air hums with a mixture of electronic beeps, muffled laughter, and the occasional shout of triumph or frustration. Rayan’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in the eclectic space, a mix of vintage machines and newer, customized setups.
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“Not bad,” he mutters, trying to hide his intrigue.
Ethan grins, clearly pleased with Rayan’s reaction. “I told you it’d be worth it. This place is sort of a safe haven for people who aren’t exactly interested in following the rules.”
As they wander through the maze of arcade machines, Ethan keeps up his “tour guide” routine, pointing out the quirks of the place. Rayan’s eyes sweep over the worn carpet and the faint, flashing glow from neon signs, all adding to the arcade’s strange, underground vibe. Nellie sticks close, glancing around at the machines and the scattered groups of players—some absorbed in games, others chatting in low voices. A heavy rock track hums from an old jukebox in the corner, adding a gritty edge to the atmosphere.
“This place has rules, but they’re more like… guidelines,” Ethan says, his voice just loud enough for Rayan and Nellie to hear. “Everyone here knows everyone else, and you can feel it—there’s this code of respect. But if you’re here, it means you belong, or at least, that you can hold your own.”
Rayan raises an eyebrow, a small smirk on his lips. “Sounds like you’re talking about some underground society or something. What’s the catch?”
Ethan chuckles, leaning back against a battered racing game console. “It’s a little like that. No one here’s going to give you respect for free. You gotta prove yourself—this place doesn’t have room for anyone just passing through.”
Rayan glances around at the people in the arcade. They’re a mix of high school students and young adults, all marked by a certain sharpness in their eyes, a familiarity with the unspoken rules. Most of them don’t even look up, focused on their games or conversations, but some notice the newcomers and shoot them quick, appraising glances.
Just then, a small group of older teens steps forward, led by a tall guy with intense eyes and a scar running down his cheek. His gaze moves over Rayan, Ethan, and Nellie with a critical look. The low hum of the arcade seems to quiet slightly as the group’s presence demands attention.
Ethan’s grin doesn’t falter as he steps forward. “Relax, we’re just here to check out the place. Thought we’d bring my friends along to see what all the hype’s about.”
The scarred guy raises an eyebrow, eyes fixed on Rayan now. His voice is calm but layered with challenge. “Bringing friends isn’t that simple, especially when they look like they don’t know what they’re getting into.” His eyes glint with subtle amusement. “New faces need to earn their spot here.”
Rayan’s faint smirk fades, replaced by a look of genuine interest. “And how exactly do I earn it?” His tone is steady, eyes meeting the guy’s with equal intensity.
The trio exchange glances, taken aback by the audacity of the leader's words. A wave of tension ripples through the group, and the leader’s gaze lingers on Nellie, a cocky smirk playing at his lips. “We don’t let just anyone stay here,” he says, leaning back against the arcade’s graffiti-covered wall, his posture oozing confidence. “But if she hangs out with us…” He looks back at his crew, who share knowing looks filled with anticipation, “…then maybe we’ll let you three stay. Deal?”
Rayan’s eyes narrow, his usual cool demeanor replaced by an intensity that sends a shiver through the group. He steps forward, a sense of resolve radiating from him. “You’re out of your mind if you think she’s going anywhere with you,” he asserts, his voice low but firm, each word dripping with defiance.
The leader’s smirk falters, replaced by a flicker of irritation as he sizes Rayan up. “Oh? And what are you going to do about it?” he taunts, cracking his knuckles in a display meant to intimidate. The challenge hangs in the air, heavy and unyielding.
Ethan glances between them, his heart racing as he senses the clash about to unfold. “Rayan, we don’t have to—” he begins, trying to diffuse the escalating tension, but his words trail off as he realizes the determination in Rayan’s stance.
The leader leans forward, a predatory glint in his eyes. “What if I said I could take you down first? Then what?” His crew shifts behind him, sensing the brewing storm. Rayan stands firm, a low growl of confidence escaping him.
“I won’t let that happen.” Rayan's response is immediate, a declaration of intent that electrifies the atmosphere. The arcade’s dim lights flicker above, casting shadows that dance around them, mirroring the tension building between the two.
With the air thick with challenge, neither side is willing to back down, setting the stage for the inevitable showdown.
As the leader’s smug smirk returns, he gestures to his crew to stay back, making it clear this fight is his alone. The crowd in the arcade goes silent, every eye glued to the unfolding clash.
Without warning, the leader lunges forward, aiming a swift right hook at Rayan’s face. Rayan sidesteps, narrowly avoiding the fist, and retaliates with a quick jab to the leader’s ribs, his knuckles striking solidly against muscle. The leader grunts, more surprised than hurt, and steps back, sizing Rayan up with newfound respect.
“You’re quicker than I thought,” he sneers, wiping his mouth. “But speed won’t be enough.”
With a sudden burst of aggression, the leader charges at Rayan again, this time leading with his shoulder. Rayan plants his feet, waiting for the moment before impact, and then pivots, grabbing the leader’s arm and throwing him off balance. The leader stumbles forward, colliding with one of the arcade’s machines, the clang echoing through the tense silence.
Anger flashes across the leader’s face, and he snarls as he straightens up. “I’ll make you regret that!” His voice is rough, almost feral, and his fists clench tightly as he advances again, this time more cautious, his eyes trained on Rayan’s every move.
They circle each other, Rayan’s gaze unyielding, his stance steady. The leader lunges again, aiming a punch low. Rayan blocks it with his forearm and counters with an uppercut, his fist connecting with the leader’s jaw. The leader staggers but doesn’t fall, instead lashing out with a wild punch that grazes Rayan’s shoulder, jolting him slightly.
Rayan doesn’t waste a second, using the momentum to throw a hard kick to the leader’s chest. The leader stumbles back, gasping for air, and the crowd murmurs in surprise at Rayan’s strength.
By now, the leader’s cockiness is replaced with frustration, and he moves with more aggression, his punches fast but unfocused. Rayan dodges left, then right, his movements fluid and controlled, each one honed from experience. A glint of amusement flashes in his eyes as he sidesteps another punch.
“You’re predictable,” Rayan says, his voice low, almost taunting.
The leader growls in response, enraged, and swings again, this time with everything he’s got. Rayan ducks, allowing the punch to sail overhead, and then delivers a powerful elbow strike to the leader’s side. The impact echoes through the arcade, and the leader’s face contorts in pain as he doubles over.
Just as Rayan pulls back, readying for the final blow, he catches Ethan’s eye from the edge of the crowd. Ethan gives him a subtle nod, a hint of admiration mixed with relief.
The leader, gasping, steadies himself and looks up, his defiance barely holding. “This… this isn’t over,” he spits, but the confidence in his voice wavers.
“Oh, I think it is,” Rayan replies, his gaze steady as he takes one last step forward, towering over the leader, who’s clearly on the verge of defeat.
The crowd holds its breath, the energy in the room thick with tension, but Rayan only gives the leader a final, piercing stare before turning his back. Ethan and Nellie exchange impressed glances as Rayan walks toward them, unbothered and unscathed. The message is clear: he could’ve done much worse.
As they head for the exit, the leader’s crew rushes over to help him up, casting wary glances at Rayan and his friends. In that moment, Rayan’s reputation solidifies—a silent but undeniable warning to anyone who dares challenge him.
After leaving the arcade, the trio strolls down the quiet streets, the city lights casting a warm glow against the evening sky. They make their way to a nearby park, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the intensity of the arcade. Ethan lets out a low whistle, looking over at Rayan with a grin.
“That was incredible, man. Zach Carter’s a huge deal down there,” he says, a mixture of awe and relief in his voice. “No one’s ever stood up to him like that.”
Rayan raises an eyebrow, his expression still relaxed but with a glint of curiosity. “Zach Carter, huh?” he repeats. “Honestly, who the hell is that guy?”
Ethan chuckles, glancing around as if he half-expects someone to overhear. “Zach’s not just some random tough guy. He’s part of one of the biggest gangs in London. That arcade? It’s practically his base. The whole crew worships him.”
Nellie, who’s been silent, looks at Rayan with a slight smile. “Not many people would’ve done what you did. Zach’s notorious—and now, you’ve got his attention,” she says, her voice calm but with a trace of admiration.
Rayan shrugs, unconcerned. “If that’s all it takes to impress him, he’s got low standards.” He smirks, casting a glance back in the direction of the arcade. “Besides, he was just another punk with too much ego.”
Ethan shakes his head, still processing what happened. “You might think he’s all ego, but trust me, he’s got serious connections. Crossing him like that… Let’s just say, Zach’s not the type to let things go easily.”
Rayan’s expression hardens, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. “Then he’s welcome to come find me. I’ll be waiting.”
For a moment, the three of them walk in silence, each caught up in their thoughts. The distant hum of traffic fills the quiet, grounding them after the intensity of the night. Finally, Nellie speaks up, her voice soft but steady.
“Thanks for standing up for me, Rayan.”
He looks over, his serious expression easing just a bit. “Always,” he replies simply. Then, with a smirk, he nudges Ethan. “But you’re the one who brought us there. Didn’t realize you had friends in high places.”
Ethan laughs, the tension breaking. “Hey, I knew it’d be fun… though maybe not _that_ much fun.”
The trio shares a laugh, and, in that moment, any worries about Zach Carter feel miles away. But as they walk off into the night, a sense of anticipation lingers—knowing this is just the beginning.