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Chapter 29 – Before the Storm

The sky was a dull grey the next morning. Not raining. Not clear. Just waiting—like the world was holding its breath.

Gor sat in the classroom early, too early, staring blankly at his notebook. The image wondering in his mind.

He had wanted answers, but now all he had was confusion.

Why had Don never said a word?

Why had he hidden so much?

And still… why did Gor feel proud of him?

Don entered late, eyes tired, hair still wet from a rushed bath. He gave Gor a small nod before collapsing into his seat by the window. Jake looked up, nodded too, but even he could feel the tension.

None of them spoke until the class was halfway through.

Then, Don slowly took out a worn piece of paper. Folded once. Twice. Yellowed by time. He stared at it for a full minute before sliding it across the table to Jake.

Jake opened it. His eyes widened.

It was a map.

Old, hand-drawn, but detailed. Symbols and labels. Arrows. Hideouts.

At the bottom, a familiar signature: “S.”

Jake whispered, “Is this...?”

Don simply nodded. “The last thing Shiv gave me before I left the gang. He said I’d know when to use it.”

“And now?” Jake asked.

Don lit a cigarette right there in class, uncaring of the rules. The flame reflected in his eyes.

“It’s now.”

---

That afternoon, the three skipped school. They walked silently through the empty streets, arriving at a quiet riverbank—a place from childhood they had nearly forgotten.

It was here they used to dream.

To play.

To believe in everything, before the world made them doubt.

They sat in the grass.

Jake broke the silence. “Don… why didn’t you ever tell us?”

Don didn’t respond at first. Then, slowly, “Because I wasn’t proud of who I was. I smoked to forget. Fought to escape. Wrote to survive.”

Gor finally asked, “You were the vice-captain, right?”

Don’s hand froze mid-air. He didn’t ask how Gor knew. He just smiled faintly. “Yeah.”

“But why hide it?” Gor asked again.

“Because that part of me… that violent, broken part… it was useful then. But now, I don’t know if it still belongs.”

Jake looked at him, quiet. Then said softly, “It does. It made you who you are. And we’re still here. Still your friends.”

For a long while, no one said anything. The wind danced across the grass, playing with fallen leaves like memories drifting back.

Then Gor asked, “What happens now?”

Don looked at the map again.

“Mark’s not just another bully. He’s connected to something bigger—someone from the old world. Shiv thinks he’s being backed by one of the fallen gangs trying to rise again.”

Jake clenched his fists. “You’re saying this isn’t over.”

Don nodded. “No. It’s just beginning.”

---

That night, Don returned to his rooftop.

He stared at the stars.

Smoked in silence.

And thought of a girl who once gave him a pen and told him he’d change lives with his words.

He hadn’t written anything in months.

But maybe…

Just maybe…

It was time to start again.

Not to escape.

But to remember.

Because the past was not a prison.

It was a story.

And Don?

He was the writer.

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End of Chapter 29