Expelled and needing to transfer for his final year, Liam had known immediately where to go. It was the place that'd taken everything from him; that'd ruined him so absolutely it'd twisted his personality beyond recognition.
The place where he'd met...
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Down the corridors of Liam's childhood nightmare, the past remained below him—a mirage made defective from another angle—murked under the short heads of uniformed pupils. Like muggy air, the stagnance moved off people's disturbing blazers, and perhaps someone else here was reliving the same suffocation within it he once had. But not him. Strolling beside Charlie, exchanging their typical back and forth, a smile playing on his lip, he was far beyond its reach.
ㅤUntil it wasn't the only thing disturbing the air.
ㅤ"Fuck you!"
ㅤWith a bang and clatter, a rucksack skid over linen, its contents strewing out across the floor. Liam watched, bemused, as a larger boy lunged for the owner, his back rattling into the metal lockers.
ㅤLiam had recognised him immediately.
ㅤ"I told you, Finley! I told you 'one more fucking time'! Didn't I?" The taller pupil thrusted him back by the collar again. "Why can't you just pack it in, for fuck's sake? Why do you keep going?"
ㅤBeside him, Charlie lowly whistled. Unlike the shocked frowns and concerned watching from others, his gaze was dispassionate.
ㅤThe squeak of a shoe snapped Liam's attention back, as Finley forced himself forward in an attempt to wrestle free.
ㅤ"What the hell is wrong with you? Leave me alone!"
ㅤ"Me?" the other near-shrieked, his octave hiking with his disbelief. "You want me to leave you alone?" His scoff ripped through his throat, smiling incredulously. "You absolute fucking poofter, holy shit. Shut the fuck up and stop talking about me like in that rights-reversing faggoty way, and I won't have to touch your cum-crusty skin again in my life. Oh my God."
ㅤLiam's wince was involuntary.
ㅤA glint of sun flashed off someone's screen. A phone was pointed at the scuffle. The cameraman was sniggering with his friend and Liam stepped over to plant himself in their view. At least when it'd been him getting caught in corridors, it was before people seemed so disgustingly bold to habitually document humiliation, like there wasn't a real person in the LEDs.
ㅤWithout such evidence haunting Liam, for him, it was as if everything had never happened. The rest of the world moved on, and forgot, it seemed.
ㅤOne of the attacker's friends laughed as Finley weakly tried to hit back, his weak fists flailing pathetically. "Try putting more weight into it!" he taunted.
ㅤ"Go on, lad!" another other cackled.
ㅤRegardless of any context, Liam steadily grew uncomfortable. It was time for him to intervene.
ㅤBut, to his surprise, after a nasty look behind himself, the perpetrator dropped Finley and brushed his hands off. He glared down at the bag in disgust. "Let's just go," he told his friends.
