The morning sun bathed the schoolyard in a golden hue, but for Damien, it felt cold and unwelcoming. His feet dragged across the pavement, each step heavier than the last. As he entered the school, the usual confident swagger he carried was absent. Whispers followed him down the hall, like a wave rolling behind him, gaining momentum with every step he took.

“Did you hear?” 
“Yeah, his father went bankrupt… no more money, no more power.”

The hushed voices hit his ears, sharp like needles. His fists clenched involuntarily, but he tried to shake it off, heading to his locker as though everything was normal.

But then, a senior—someone Damien usually paid no attention to—blocked his path. “Hey, Damien, I heard your dad had to sell his fancy car. What’s next? Gonna start coming to school in a taxi?” he sneered, his friends chuckling behind him.

Damien’s face twisted with rage. Without a second thought, he shoved the senior hard against the locker. “Say that again, I dare you.”

The laughter stopped, and for a split second, there was silence. Then, the senior pushed back, his voice taunting, “Guess you're not so tough without daddy’s money, huh?”

Before Damien could process his actions, his fist connected with the senior’s jaw, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Gasps echoed in the hallway, but Damien didn’t care. His body moved on instinct, ready to swing again.

“Enough!” A voice boomed, and the school security rushed in, pulling Damien off the senior before the situation escalated any further.

Later in the staffroom, Damien sat in a chair, arms crossed, seething with anger as the senior’s parents argued with the teachers. “This is unacceptable! Damien should be expelled for what he’s done to our son!” they yelled, their voices filled with venom.

Damien's heart pounded, but what infuriated him more wasn’t their words. It was his homeroom teacher’s silence. The one who had always praised him now stood there, eyes cold and indifferent.

“I didn’t start this,” Damien muttered under his breath, but the parents continued their onslaught, calling him a bully, demanding justice.

“Shut up!” Damien roared, rising from his seat. “I’m not apologizing for defending myself!”

The room fell silent. For a moment, everyone stared at him, wide-eyed, and then *smack*—his teacher’s hand flew across Damien’s face. The force of the slap left Damien stunned, his cheek burning. The staffroom spun as if the walls had closed in on him.

“How dare…” he started, but his teacher cut him off, voice low and dangerous. “Damien Rook, if you want to stay in this school without getting expelled, you will keep your mouth shut.”

Damien's breath caught in his throat. He had never seen his teacher like this, a person he thought he could trust, now treating him like the dirt beneath her shoes.

After some time Damien's father arrived at school and finally entered the staffroom, shoulders slumped, his face lined with exhaustion. The man who once commanded respect wherever he went now seemed smaller, defeated. As the teacher started addressing him, the humiliation continued.

“Mr. Rook,” the teacher began, “Your son has been nothing but trouble, and now we’re at a breaking point.”

Damien winced as he watched his father stand there, taking every insult hurled at him without a word. His jaw clenched. This wasn’t right.

The senior’s parents stood, sneering. “If you want your son to remain in this school, you should beg for forgiveness.”

Damien’s heart raced. “Dad, you don’t need to—" he began, but his father cut him off sharply. “Shut up, you little…!” His father’s voice cracked with fury.

For the first time in Damien’s life, his father had spoken to him with such venom. The man who always had his back now seemed disgusted by his very existence.

His father slowly said. “Please, I’m asking for your forgiveness,” he murmured, his voice hollow.

Damien’s world shattered. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His father—the powerful businessman who never bent to anyone—was kneeling before these people, begging. It was worse than any slap, worse than any insult.

After requesting many time, Danien was only suspended for a week from school. After that the ride home was silent, the tension in the air so thick it was suffocating. When they arrived, it wasn’t to their grand house anymore. Instead, they pulled up to a cramped, run-down apartment.

Inside, everything was in disarray. Boxes were stacked in every corner. The walls were bare, the expensive furniture gone. It wasn’t just the apartment that felt different. It was everything. Damien's father hadn’t spoken a word since the staffroom. He was furious, but not at the school, not at the parents, not even at the system. He was furious at Damien.

“Because of you,” his father finally hissed, barely looking at him. “Everything… all of this.”

The words were like knives, cutting deeper than any physical pain. Damien wanted to say something, anything, but no words came. His father stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Damien stood there, alone in the dark, the weight of his father’s words pressing down on him. His life wasn’t just falling apart—it was crumbling to dust, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.