The suspension week dragged on painfully for Damien. His home, once a place of luxury and comfort, had become suffocating. The small apartment seemed to shrink more with every passing day, the walls closing in on him as his father’s silent fury festered. His mother barely spoke, eyes constantly avoiding his gaze, her once warm presence now a cold shadow of itself.

But it wasn’t just his family. Damien felt like a stranger to himself. Gone were the days when he ruled the school with an iron fist, when his confidence could silence a room, when his friends flocked to him for approval. Now, all that remained was a gnawing emptiness, a growing sense that he was losing control.

Finally, the dreaded day arrived—his return to school. With a deep breath, Damien stepped through the front gates, shoulders squared and head high, trying to convince himself that everything would go back to normal. But deep down, he knew. Nothing was the same.

**Whispers and Murmurs**

The moment Damien entered the school, the atmosphere shifted. It was as if the entire building turned against him. Everywhere he went, he felt eyes on him, whispers trailing behind him like shadows.

“There he is… the bankrupt kid.” 
“His father had to beg on his knees… what a joke.” 
“Used to think he was all that… now look at him.”

Damien’s hands balled into fists, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He tried to block out the voices, the laughter, but they seemed to echo louder inside his head. Each word was a dagger, each sneer a reminder of how far he’d fallen.

As he walked down the hallway, a student brushed past him, colliding into his shoulder. Damien turned, his temper flaring. “Watch where you’re going!” he snapped, ready to unleash his frustration.

The student—someone Damien barely recognized—turned to face him, eyes cold. “What are you gonna do? Get your father to beg for you again?” His voice dripped with venom.

The words hit Damien like a punch to the gut. For a moment, he was frozen, unable to comprehend what he’d just heard. Before he could react, the student shoved him lightly, smirking as he walked away, leaving Damien standing there, stunned and humiliated.

As the day dragged on, the reality of his new life became clearer. His friends, once his loyal entourage, were nowhere to be found. When he walked into the classroom, they barely glanced at him, their conversations dying the moment he approached. It was as if he was invisible—or worse, like he no longer existed to them.

At lunch, Damien sat down at his usual spot, expecting the others to join him. But one by one, they drifted past, choosing other tables, laughing and chatting as if he wasn’t even there.

His throat tightened, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. He’d never felt this way before—so utterly alone. The hunter had become the prey.

The final blow came when he glanced down at his desk and saw it. Graffiti, scrawled across the wood in thick, dark ink: **"Beggar's Son"**, **"Bankrupt Family"**, and other words too painful to read.

His stomach churned. He stormed up to the teacher’s desk, anger boiling over. “Someone vandalized my desk. You need to do something about this,” he demanded, his voice sharp with desperation.

But the teacher barely looked up from her paperwork. “It’s just some pranks, Damien. You’ve handled worse before. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

"Fine. Damien stared at her in disbelief. Could she not see what was happening? Did she not care?" He realized, with a sinking feeling, that no one did. No one was going to help him.

Damien was walking through the hall when he overheard whispers coming from around the corner. Curiosity piqued, he quietly approached, keeping himself hidden. What he heard made his blood run cold.

His friends—the ones who had stood by him through everything—were the ones spreading the rumors. They were the ones who had started the jokes, the graffiti, the whispers that followed him everywhere he went.

He couldn’t believe it. Mason, Jake—people he had trusted—were the very ones who had turned his life into a living nightmare.

His vision blurred with rage. He stormed over to them, grabbing Jake by the collar and slamming him into the wall. “Why?” he spat, his voice shaking with fury. “Why the hell are you doing this to me?”

Jake’s eyes were wide with panic. “Wait, wait! It wasn’t us! We were just… we were just doing what Ethan told us to!”

Damien’s grip tightened, his knuckles white. “Ethan? He’s behind this?”

Jake nodded, his voice trembling. “He… he said it was just for fun. I swear we didn’t mean anything by it!”

But Damien didn’t care about their excuses. His world narrowed, his focus zeroing in on one thing: Ethan.

Damien found Ethan at the back of the school, surrounded by a small group of students, laughing as he pushed a kid around, taunting him like he had done so many times before. But this time, Damien wasn’t going to stand for it.

He marched up to Ethan, rage boiling over, and grabbed him by the collar. “You sick bas*ard,” Damien hissed, his voice barely more than a growl. “You’re the one behind all of this.”

Ethan didn’t flinch. In fact, he smiled—a cold, mocking smile that made Damien’s blood run cold. “Behind what? All I did was show people who you really are.”

Before Damien could respond, Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it up in front of Damien’s face. The screen flickered to life, showing a video—*that* video. The one of Damien’s father, begging for forgiveness.

Damien’s heart dropped into his stomach. “What the hell is this?” he whispered, horror creeping into his voice.

Ethan’s smile widened. “This, my dear friend, is what will keep you in your place. If you don’t want your life to get even more miserable, you’d better learn to behave. Got it?”

Damien stood there, paralyzed by the weight of his humiliation, as Ethan casually slipped his phone back into his pocket. “See you around,” Ethan said with a wink, walking away, leaving Damien standing there in the aftermath of his ruined life.