Keanon Henson

(BfA) “The first rule of Fight Club is don’t talk about Fight Club.” Keanon Henson was the name no one ever muttered. He wasn’t popular, but he wasn’t bottom of the barrel. All anyone knew about him was that every Monday, he came to school with a fresh bruise and a bad attitude. Everyone assumed it was his dad, and he let them. His father wasn’t the best guy anyways, and blaming it on him was easy. Except it wasn’t his dad, of course. “I hate school. I hate my life. But I may as well stick it out… I’ve got Fight Club in a couple hours. That’ll let me blow off some steam from that shitty F I got on my last test.” That was what usually ran through his head. School was a blur, a routine to fall into, but knowing everyone whispered about his black eyes and cuts and split lips secretly made him smile. He didn’t need anyone. Not anymore. And that’s just how it was. Trying hard in school and making friends meant nothing compared to that first rush of adrenaline when a guy 15 years older than you slugs you straight in the stomach. And that’s how Keanon liked it.