▎. . . In which seven boys meet in the school counsellor's office every week and are given a group project to work on for the year.
UNDERGOING REWRITING
sidemen...
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍. triggers: cursing, mentions abandonment, mentions of illness & mentions of injury.
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‟︎ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 Monday, Ethan!" Tobi was brave enough to sing out as he hopped onto the school bus. Ethan scrunched his face towards the boy perplexedly, freckles aligning along his cheekbones.
They hadn't spoken to one another in the slightest before that meeting. Why was he being so nice? Stupid kid.
Ethan, himself, tore his bike away from the rack, letting the wheels bounce on the pavement before swinging a leg over.
"Fucking move, will you?" He barked at a younger pupil, maybe twelve, who jolted so harshly he might've received whiplash. And Ethan had the audacity (plus the power) to laugh, screeching his tires against the tar and beginning his pedal down the valley.
Ethan Payne had always been alone. He preferred things this way, because it made him stronger, able to fend for himself. He had never relied on others to do things for him, like so many of his peers had, because for Ethan there simply wasn't anyone to do so. His mother had been sick for a long time and didn't need the struggle, Fake Dad had fucked off, Real Dad probably didn't even know he existed.
Not like he needed them, anyway.
Building up speed, Ethan risked racing up a ramp and successfully pulled off a fluent trick, the puddles in the mud spreading their watery wings along either side of the bike. He cackled into the wind, adoring his ability to manipulate the world, even for a moment. This was his domain. He could control the Earth. The Earth wouldn't leave.
Sometimes he would set fires and smother them with his hands. The flames would lick his palms, swaying dangerously and scalding Ethan's palms, claiming them as their own. The dormant villain inside of him revelled in how connected he was to fire, how the same heat echoed inside of his soul, begging to burn.
You couldn't explain that to people, though, so Ethan was just deemed 'troubled'.
That meeting hadn't gone well at all, yet he was still going back next week. Was he dumb?
Well, no.
After his outburst and his all-too-quiet storming out, Ethan had quickly realised that this was a dead end. Mrs Shields followed him out, observing from a safe distance as if he were a zoo animal. He might as well have been, with the animalistic nature of a madman. He turned to the lady sharply, exasperated arms tossed to the side.
"What, are you my bodyguard now?" He taunted, heaving out a half-arsed scoff. Mrs Shields only smiled; why the fuck was she always smiling, like she knew something he didn't?
