Wednesday morning, September 2nd.

A day that would live on in infamy for poor, poor Dylan Moore.

 Per usual, this special boy was taking the bus to school. At first glance, he may just seem tired and irritated from having to take this pathetic excuse of public transport to school at 6:30 in the morning, but this 18 year old brat was ruing to have to suffer through another year of seeing his rival's stupid face again. Markus Shawe had done virtually nothing to Dylan besides make a few sassy-sweet remarks towards him, but that wasn't why Dylan hated that horrendous creature.

 Before Markus transferred to Pine Creek high school in junior year, Dylan was praised by his classmates. He came from a long line of luthier magicians, so creation-based magic was in his blood. It was extremely rare magic, so his colleagues were usually mesmerized by the process of it. Lo and behold, that led to him becoming quite popular, until that stupid attention vacuum came striding into Dylan's life. Markus wasn't even that cool! just because nobody knows what kind of magic he has doesn't mean he can just replace Dylan so easily.

Dylan squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as the bus came to a stop. He silently prayed the dark leather of the seat would swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to go out and face that wretched bastard, but to his misfortune, it did not. He wallowed silently in his misery and slowly got out of the seat and staggered out of the bus. As soon as both his shoes had made contact with the asphalt below, he felt his body get pummeled by a bike. He tripped over his feet and face-planted into the hard ground, feeling the bike suddenly become entangled with his legs as well as the weight of another person become forced down on his back and head.

 Whoever that moron was who hit him quickly rolled off Dylan and untangled their bike from his legs. Dylan growled deeply and lifted his cut and bloodied face from the ground, his ice cold, blue eyes sending an aggressive glare towards the perpetrator. He almost screamed as he saw what kind of idiot ran him over. Of fucking course it was that little bitch, Markus. He took, seemed a bit scratched up from hitting the concrete sidewalk, but smiled sympathetically at Dylan and offered him a hand up, so he was obviously okay. 

"Ah, I-I-I'm so sorry! Uh-..."

 Markus stuttered out like a flustered schoolgirl. Dylan, snapping out of his shock, had just rolled his eyes and slowly got up himself and dusted off his nay vest and grey undershirt. He put his hand up to his nose, before pulling it back and seeing a mound of crimson blood already smothering his pale skin.

"The hell, man? Are you actually blind?"

Dylan said with a scowl, his eyes snapping to look back at Markus. He seemed a bit taken aback and confused at first, before a stupid shit-eating grin grew on that monster's face.

"Aww, is your majesty offended from the few cuts and bruises? What's wrong, never bled?"

Dylan's mouth hung open in awe. How could he say something like that? Was he actually heartless? Of course he was! Why wouldn't he be? After a few seconds of Dylan staring in shock at this insensitive prick, Markus' grin turned into a chuckle as he walked towards Dylan. Instinctively, Dylan jumped back, tripping slightly over his heels. It only caused Markus to laugh more, which in turn made Dylan almost immediately enraged.

"Shut up!"

That was all Dylan could muster out. His voice felt so high pitched it caused him to grimace at how pathetic he sounded, before quickly stomping away from his physical and emotional attacker while they laughed at how flabbergasted he was from a simple insult. He was only so shocked because he seemed guilty before, idiot. Stop laughing!

As Dylan angrily made his way through the school halls and to his locker, he shoved half of the contents in his messenger bag in this iron cabinet so violently he actually crumpled on of his books. Upon further inspection, there were quite a few tears in the spine of the pages as well, just fueling his anger even more as he slammed the locker closed and cursed out.

"Fucking!-... Ugh!"

He yelled, startling the few others in the hall. He was lucky to have come early before most everyone else had spilled into this juvenile prison...I mean school, sorry. Dylan almost had his soul jump out of his skin as he heard someone speaking behind him, before realizing it was his personal hell coming back to torture him yet again.

"What're you so angry for? Did you hit your head to hard on the road?"

Markus smiled down to Dylan, whose pale face had flushed a deep red from his quarrel with the world as of right now. He looked up to Markus with the strong desire to pummel their face in with his common core math book, but seemed to somehow refrain and push past them.

"Shut up and crawl back into the ditch you came from!"

Dylan retorted back to Markus bluntly, just causing him to laugh. He felt his body suddenly get jerked back as Markus had grabbed his wrist and began dragging Dylan in the opposite direction. Fuck, why did he have to have a strong grip too?

"Mmm, I don't believe you. You have time before class so I'll just take you on a detour to the nurse's office"

Markus smiled and happily dragged his unwilling victim down the hall as he kicked, screamed and cussed out at him. Markus didn't seem to care about Dylan's futile attempts at escape. Dylan did, and was genuinely considering to break the rules and use magic to get away. Of course he didn't, since it was still illegal for him to use it outside of classes, courses, and government work since he was a bit late getting his permit. But it wasn't his fault that creation magic users had to take their finals during senior year instead of junior! Shit, he got lost in thought. Wait- when did he sit down? And when did Markus start applying rubbing alcohol to his open wound??

"Ow! That hurts, asshole!"

Dylan winced and whined, kicking Markus in the knee even though he barely budged. Markus just laughed at Dylan's suffering per usual and didn't respond with anything other than a bright, cocky smile which made Dylan's blood boil. What a shitty morning.