006

Shaun woke with a jolt. The light in his room was already too bright for comfort. He reached for his phone, and the moment his eyes focused on the time, his heart sank.

Late.

“Why do I always wake up late?” he groaned. And today, of all days.

The lecturer had a reputation one Shaun had no interest in testing. He shot out of bed in seconds, moving on instinct rather than thought. A rushed shower, clothes pulled on haphazardly, bag slung over his shoulder. He had booked a cab before even dressing, and now, outside, it was already waiting.

Relief barely had time to settle before his foot struck something solid. Pain shot up his leg.

“Ah!” he hissed, but didn’t bother to look back. Whatever it was could wait. He limped into the cab and shut the door, breath coming fast.

“Good morning, sir,” he said, forcing calm as the car pulled away.

The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “You seem in a hurry.”

“I’m already late,” Shaun replied. “Can we get there in fifteen minutes?”

“I’d rather not risk an accident,” the driver said mildly. “Better late than injured.”

Shaun leaned back against the seat, exhaling. He knew the man was right, even if he hated it.

“Alright. Take your time.”

The driver hesitated, then spoke again, softer this time. “You should be careful today.”

Shaun frowned. “Why?”

“Hitting your leg on your way out of the house,” the man said. “Some people believe it’s a sign.”

A chill crept up Shaun’s spine. “A sign of what?”

“Bad luck, usually.” The driver’s lips curved into a small, unreadable smile. “But luck can be avoided. Just don’t invite trouble.”

Shaun nodded, unsettled, and stared out the window for the rest of the ride.

When they reached campus, he paid quickly and headed for the basketball court instead of the lecture hall. There was no point walking into class late only to be humiliated. The court was quiet at this hour, empty except for the echo of distant voices and his own footsteps.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the figure approaching until they collided.

“Oh sorry,” Shaun said automatically.

“Careful.”

The voice was low, edged with amusement. Shaun looked up.

His hair dyed a harsh shade of red, a thin, unsettling grin on his face. He leaned in just enough for Shaun to catch the sharp scent of his cologne.

“Watch your back,” Greg murmured, then straightened and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Shaun stood frozen for a moment, unease twisting in his gut.

“I’ve seen that face before,” he muttered, though he couldn’t place where. He shook it off. It meant nothing.

He sat on the edge of the court, pulled out his phone, and typed:

Hey. I’m skipping my first class. Wanna join me?

No reply.

He tried again.

I’m at the basketball court.

Still nothing. Shaun frowned at the screen, then sighed, opening a movie to pass time.

Nathan woke later than usual, sunlight spilling across his room. He moved through his morning routine without rush, checking his phone only once he was in his car. Shaun’s messages were waiting.

A smile tugged at his lips.

What possessed you today? he typed back. No response.

A few minutes passed. He sent another message.

Sorry, I was asleep. You still at the court?

Sorry I made you miss me. I could compensate with a hug if you want…

Nathan exhaled after sending it. He kept cooking up excuses in his head, but he was no chef.

Hey? he texted again. Silence.

By the time Nathan reached campus, he went straight to the basketball court.

Shaun wasn’t there. The court was empty.

Nathan skipped his class and waited outside Shaun’s lecture hall instead. Might as well hug him off guard that would be better.

Students filtered out slowly, laughing, complaining, checking their phones. Shaun

never appeared.

Eli came out alone, adjusting his bag.

Nathan stepped in front of him. “Have you seen Shaun?”

Eli frowned. “No. He wasn’t in class.”

The answer hit harder than Nathan expected.

He called Shaun. No answer. Again. Nothing.

Nathan lowered his phone, staring at the empty screen. Where did he go?

Just then, a new message buzzed in. He opened it, and his stomach sank a little:

"Come to the drama practice room. Now."

Nathan frowned. Drama practice? That wasn’t part of his plan… not at all.

This isn’t good, he muttered, running a hand through his hair. His mind started racing. Was Shaun in trouble? Or… was this some kind of trap?

Nathan shrugged and went anyway. As he opened the door, he froze. Shaun was sitting in the corner, arms crossed, his expression dark with anger.

Nathan’s eyes flicked to Greg, leaning casually against the wall, smirking like he owned the place. Nathan inhaled slowly, trying to steady himself.

“What’s going on here?” Nathan demanded, his voice booming through the small practice room.

Greg grinned. “I only brought your cupcake here for a chat,” he said, feigning innocence. “He bit me, so I slapped him. Chill, I didn’t hit hard.”

Shaun sprang to his feet. “That’s a lie! He tricked me into coming here and locked me in! He even took my phone!”

Nathan narrowed his eyes at Shaun, who continued, “He kept asking me weird questions. I tried to leave, but he held me so I bit him!”

Nathan’s gaze sharpened, a dangerous calm settling over him. “Where’s his phone?”

Greg, still smirking but a little wary now, fished the device out of his pocket and handed it over.

Nathan took the phone without a word and turned toward Shaun. “Wait for me at my car.”

Shaun didn’t hesitate. “Right hand,” he said, knowing exactly what Nathan had in mind. He shot Greg a warning glare, silently wishing him the worst, and walked away.

Nathan closed the door behind him.

He grabbed a staff like object from the corner of the room and advanced on Greg.

Greg’s smirk faltered. He’d thought this would be a normal scuffle like every other time. He didn’t expect Nathan’s fury to explode so violently.

Nathan swung, precise and controlled, targeting Greg’s right hand. Again and again, until the sickening snap of bone made Greg howl in pain.

“You’ll regret ever messing with him,” Nathan growled through clenched teeth, finally lowering the object. Greg collapsed against the wall, clutching his broken hand, tears of pain streaming down his face.

Nathan exhaled slowly, the anger in his chest finally ebbing. He dropped the staff and strode toward the door, leaving Greg writhing behind him.