The layers of Kaid Isherwood (The 1st book in the 'Layers' series)

Chapter 15

Kaid Isherwood's POV

I walked over to the little boy who supposedly went way back with me. Honestly, I had no idea what his problem was, but clearly, he thought we were the best of pals. As I approached, I couldn't help but notice the wide-eyed look on his friend's face. Kid must've been ready to witness some sort of grand showdown. Spoiler alert: there wasn't going to be one.

"I couldn't help but overhear you saying we go way back," I said, leaning in and whispering right next to his ear. He jumped like he'd been shocked by a cattle prod and whipped around so fast he almost knocked himself out.

"Hey, Kaid," he managed to sputter out. I raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I take it you chose something besides me screwing your mother for your daily bragging rights?" I asked, standing up straighter, enjoying the power dynamic for a second. His face twitched. He clearly wasn't ready for that level of social finesse.

"See! I told you! We go way back," he said triumphantly, clearly missing the point.

I sighed dramatically. "Stop. Just stop. I don't need the entire school thinking I know some little brat who can't even get his stories straight," I snapped, giving him a look that said it all.

"There already are rumors, you know. You've heard of Lucan, right?" he said, like that was supposed to impress me.

I facepalmed so hard I might've actually left an imprint. "That boy causes me problems when he's not even here," I muttered under my breath as I stormed off. Naturally, the little brat had the audacity to follow me.

"Hey! Stop walking! If you don't stop, I'll tell everyone about the lit—" He didn't get the chance to finish. I spun around, stopping dead in my tracks. He ran straight into me, and for a moment, he seemed to reconsider his entire life.

"Another word, and you'll meet a fate far worse than death," I whispered, keeping my voice low enough for only him to hear. He looked at me, arrogantly shrugging it off.

"Like you would dare do anything to me," he said, and I almost laughed. He had no idea who he was messing with. He didn't know a thing about me, my skills, or the chaos I could cause if I wanted to. But whatever.

"I can ruin you," I said, my tone as dark as I could make it. "I couldn't care less who you are or what you think you know. But here's the deal: Not another word. Not one." And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in the dust, probably regretting his entire existence.

By now, it was about time for him to get back to class. I knew that for a fact, because I knew the schedule. You could say I know the school system better than most people know their own lives. It's how I avoid doing anything I don't want to. Perfect system, really.

For once, the little brat didn't follow me. Maybe I broke his spirit? Doubtful. I mean, I barely even tried. I knew he'd be back to annoy me eventually. I had a history with him, and unfortunately, I remembered it all too well. If only I didn't. If only I could just forget that kid ever existed. But no, it seemed fate had other plans for me. And that meant dealing with him again.

I thought about it as I made my way back to my room. This day had started off with evil cackling and some nice quiet plotting. Then, it transitioned into boredom. Now it had shifted into a mix of irritation and stress. And honestly, I didn't like it one bit. If I wanted to feel anything but amusement, I'd call it a failure of a day.

I threw myself onto my bed, face-first. The weight of the world—or at least the weight of my mind games—was too much to handle. I needed some kind of distraction. I had already tried that (and no, not the thing you're probably thinking). It didn't work. It just wasted time. As usual.

But let's not dwell on that. Let's just pretend that part never happened. Just like how you definitely don't know exactly what I meant. Please don't think about it. It's better that way.

I groaned as I stared up at the ceiling, letting my mind wander. What was wrong with me? I should've had something to amuse me. Instead, I was stuck with this mental warzone of half-baked thoughts. And of course, Lucan was always the culprit. It was his fault, obviously. Everything always came back to him.

And then there were the rumors, the absurd rumors that somehow attached Lucan to me. Apparently, we were friends. I almost choked on the air in my lungs. Friends? If these people considered that friendship, I'd rather be alone. And if that's what their friendships looked like, then they seriously needed to seek professional help.

Do these people seriously work hard to mentally damage their friends? Is that the benchmark for a "friendship" in their world? Is that what I should expect from others? No thanks. I'm good, really. I'll stick with my own brand of personal destruction, thank you very much.

I thought about this for a while, getting deeper into the rabbit hole of my own unhealthy habits. Yeah, I can be a bit obsessive about ruining people's lives. But hey, I like to think of it as a hobby. Not everyone gets to have such a niche pastime, right?

But, deep down, I knew it wasn't healthy. I had to admit that to myself. Probably. I should definitely stop. But I won't. Who else is going to entertain me for more than an hour, right? That's the real question.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I really do have a problematic relationship with mental manipulation. It's probably not great, but again, it's not something I'm going to give up anytime soon. After all, it's just not every day that I find something—or someone—worth my time for this long.

Oh, and before I forget—did I mention that I'm absolutely nuts? Yeah, it's becoming more obvious by the day. I mean, how could it not be? The signs are all there. But you know what they say—when you lose your sanity, you just buy a new pen and keep writing. Or at least, that's what I tell myself.

"If someone says you carry a colossal air of lies, prove them wrong by making it even bigger," I muttered to myself with a laugh, my eyes gleaming. Maybe next time I see the Headmaster, I'll share my new philosophy. If he doesn't love it, I might just drive him to drink. He's probably already refilling his flask, just waiting for my next brilliant insight.

I thought about my "philosophy" for a while, letting it simmer in my mind. It's probably best not to think too hard about things like that. Before I knew it, I'd slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep. And in the depths of that sleep, I dreamt of a fish. But not just any fish—a fish with a horse's tail, human fingers, and square teeth.

Yeah, you're right. I have no right to call anyone weird. At least, not after that dream.