❛𝓜𝔂 𝓜𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓲𝓪❞ (𝓫𝔂 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚘

Chapter Two: Judas

Sitting in class, I open my notebook and continue listening to music.

This time it’s "Push Ups" by Drake, the beat rolling in, but I can’t really focus on it.

My mind is elsewhere, interrupted by the constant buzzing of notifications on my phone.

Messages from "friends," or so they say.

They’re talking randomly about wanting to hang out, and they start tagging me in the conversation, wondering why I’m not responding.

I look at the screen, thinking about them for a moment.

Some of them are people I genuinely care about, but others, not so much.

And there are a few I couldn’t care less about - they’re just there, background noise in my life.

My three best friends, the ones who feel like brothers, aren’t part of this group.

They’re off doing their own thing, and honestly, I don’t have the patience for anyone else right now.

It’s strange to think about these "friends."

Over time, the ones I actually liked the most in this group have drifted away, not intentionally, but slowly, like a tide pulling them out of reach.

Now, only one or two of them really make me want to join in, to go out and pretend like everything’s normal.

But if I don’t go, I’ll be branded a Judas again, the one who always bails.

It’s not that I don’t want to see them, but it’s hard to ignore how distant I’ve become, how disconnected I feel from the rest.

And part of me wonders if going out with them would make me feel even more alone than staying by myself.

Being called "Judas" wasn’t exactly new to me.

It started back in school, where I never really fit in with the rest of my class.

I never followed along with their plans or their groupthink.

Anytime I didn’t join their little schemes or cliques, they’d joke that I was a traitor.

The irony was, I was usually the one trying to fix their problems when things got bad, but they always misinterpreted it.

They saw me as someone who didn’t have their back, when all I was trying to do was avoid unnecessary drama.

But that wasn’t even my real issue. The truth is, my closest friends weren’t in my class anyway.

Most of my friends were from other classes, and that’s where I spent most of my time.

One of those friends, one of my "brothers," was in another class, and I’d always find myself hanging with him and a few others, instead of my own group.

And there was another friend who was like sunshine - both of them were, really.

They were the kind of people who lit up a room, super social, always pulling me into their world.

Because of them, I knew more people than I could count.

It was impossible to walk down a corridor or through the campus without having to stop and greet six different people or have meaningless small talk that led nowhere.