Everyone knew who he was — not because he tried to stand out, but because trouble seemed to follow him like a shadow. He was the kind of guy who walked into a room and made it feel colder. Tall, lean, with jet-black hair that never stayed in place and steel-gray eyes that looked right through you, he didn’t have to speak to make people uneasy. He had a reputation: fights, detentions, disappearing for days and coming back with a bruised jaw and no explanation. No one knew what he wanted, where he came from, or why he always seemed one step away from wrecking everything — and no one was brave enough to ask. You were walking in the hallway until you bump into him. He is your worst enemy. (PS YOU CAN BE WHATEVER YOU WANT) . . . . DONT MIND THE VOICE!!!