Hey, my name is Simon (Sea-moan), Simon Russell, but everyone calls me Simon (regular pronunciation). It’s the end of the school day here at Winslow High School, a place I have to go to because I've been deemed ‘too violent’ for the more ‘elite’ institutions, despite having good grades. My adherence to standing up against bullies has earned me this label, and as a result, I've been labeled as a ‘troublemaker’.

I’ve never been one to back down from a fight, especially when defending others. This attitude has kept me a little isolated from others, with most people avoiding me like the plague. Even the gang-affiliated students tend to avoid me. When they do try to cause trouble, I’ll take them down quickly.

You see, my father taught me Krav Maga, a fighting style that focuses on taking down people as quickly and efficiently as possible. It’s a fighting style I have honed through countless hours of training. While I usually try to resolve things peacefully, my readiness to fight when necessary is basically what I do. My fighting style is all about swift, controlled movements that I have honed to protect myself and others, which hasn’t helped my reputation as a ‘troublemaker’.

So, it’s no surprise that I feel a surge of anger as I watch the group the school has dubbed as the Trio continue to bully Taylor right in front of me. Despite my efforts, people here just don’t care.

I feel the familiar clenching of my fists as I watch the trio push Taylor around, constantly putting her down with their comments as they do so.

Taylor’s eyes are downcast, her shoulders hunched as she tries to disappear into her hoodie. I’ve seen it all before, this ritual of cruelty that they seem to derive a sick pleasure from.

The teachers turn a blind eye, just like they always do, and the administration seems more concerned with keeping the peace than actually addressing the problem.

And, as usual, I'm going to be breaking it up. “Emma, Sophia, Madison. What are you doing?”

The three of them turn towards me, their sneers quickly replaced by feigned innocence. Emma, the ringleader, puts on a fake smile. “Oh, Simon. We were just having a little chat with Taylor. Nothing serious.”

Oh, fuck no. They KNOW I'm not stupid enough to fall for that. “Yeah, and it looks like your ‘chat’ involves making her miserable. How about you back off before I make you?”

Sophia rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed, while Emma smirks, clearly amused. They exchange glances, and I know they’re deciding whether to escalate or retreat.

Sophia tilts her head slightly, eyes glinting with challenge. “Or what, Simon? You think you can make us? This is just how we have fun. Maybe you’re just jealous that we’re actually doing something with our time.”

Emma chuckles, a low, mocking sound that makes Taylor flinch. I step forward, the tension in my posture clear. “This is your last chance. I don’t want to see Taylor getting pushed around anymore. If you don’t walk away now, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Emma’s amusement fades as she assesses my aggressive stance. For a moment, there is a palpable tension in the air, but then her defiant grin returns.

“Alright, Simon. You win this round. But don’t think this is over.” And, with a final sneer, she and the others turn and walk away, their mocking laughter fading into the distance.

Taylor looks up at me, her eyes filled with lingering anxiety. “You know they're just going to try to do something worse.”

I nod, understanding the situation. “Yeah, I know. But at least it's the end of the school day, and we’ll be going on Christmas break as well,” I say, trying to reassure her.

Taylor gives a small, appreciative smile, though the worry in her eyes doesn’t fully fade. “You know the break will just be a minor reprieve from their…” She gives a deep, defeated sigh and offers a small thanks before walking to her locker.

I glance at my watch, walking by her. “Would you like me to walk you to the bus stop to make sure they don’t try anything?”

Taylor replies, “No, I'm good.”

Taylor’s response doesn't surprise me, not one bit, but I understand. “Alright, stay safe out there, okay?”

She nods with lingering tension. “I will. Thanks, Simon.” As Taylor heads toward the bus stop, I watch her for a moment, hoping she’ll be okay.

With the day winding down, I head to my own bus stop, happy to finally stop being harassed by the E88 to join. It still pisses me off when they try to pressure people into joining up. Though the ones harassing me today won’t be a problem for a while, you can guess why.

As I make my way to my bus stop, I feel a mixture of relief and unease. The day has been draining, especially with everything that's been happening lately, but it’s good to know I might have made a small difference for Taylor. Though I can’t shake the sinking feeling that the Trio won’t just let this go, and I’ll likely have to be on high alert when school resumes.

As I wait for the bus, I think about the upcoming two-week Christmas break. It’ll be a chance to relax, but I’m also aware that the issues at school will still be there when I return.

As the bus stops in front of me, I climb aboard, finding a seat near the back. As the bus rolls away, the city lights blur past the window, and my thoughts drift to what Dad said to me the last time we talked. He said that he found something for me in an antique shop, so he’s having it sent over to the house. It should be arriving any day now, so I’m pretty excited to see what he got me.

Excitedly, I dwell on this until I reach my stop. As the bus pulls up to my stop, I gather my belongings and make my way out of the bus. And with a deep breath, I start the walk home. While I walk, I briefly start to space out.

My thoughts start drifting to the gang activity in Winslow and how it complicates everyone's situation at school. The pressure to join or be associated with a gang, despite my clear boundaries, is absolutely stressful. I mean, just yesterday I got jumped by the ABB, so they could force me to join them. I won, but it was a close one.

Hell, even the merchants keep trying to sell me drugs to rope me in with them. I make it a point to document who’s selling what drugs to try to get them to stop.

While I’m thinking about that, I finally reach my house. As I walk up the porch stairs, I see the package Dad sent me. It’s a small, square box, so small in fact it's barely even noticeable in the corner of the porch. I hastily pick it up and head inside.

“Hey, Ma! I'm home!” I yell, waiting for a response from Mom. Sadly, I don’t hear one, so I guess she is still at work. Dad travels for work nowadays, so I don’t see him all that often anymore. With the economic situation in Brockton Bay, he kind of needs to.

The economy has been in a steady decline ever since some idiots decided to sink ships to protest the slow but still stable economic decline ever since Leviathan showed up. Really goes to show how stupid people can be sometimes.

Welp, guess dinner is up to me tonight. I take a look around the kitchen and decide to start making some simple beef stroganoff. When that’s done, I sit down to eat. About ten minutes later, when I finish eating, I decide to open up the package. Inside, I find a small drill attached to a string. The drill itself is a golden bronze while the base is almost black. It has a small, jagged hook attached to the base, used to hold onto the string. I stare at it for a while, just completely enamored.

I stare at it for so long that I don’t notice what time it is. When I do, I decide to put it on and head to bed. Lying in the darkness, I continue to stare at the drill. The drill was a mystery, and I swear I saw it faintly glow green when I held it. I continue to stare at it until finally, I drift off to sleep. I dreamt of a kid and his drill….