𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓+𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐒 ✭ 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍

Ṫẅ∊η†ẙ ℵїℵḙ

Phil raised his right fist in the air, making the rest of the boys follow. "What do we want!" he screams a scripted chant.

"To win!" They holler deeply.

Phil's hand lowers down to the middle of the circle. "When do we want it?!"

All the players repeated that action, placing their own hand in the middle. "Now!!" They all then clapped and dispersed into their specific assigned spots.

As the Spartans did the same readying themselves for a fight, the referee raised his silver whistle to his lips. He scanned over each player's position making sure they were liable.

Fweet!!

Like World War III was about to occur, they all darted for each other like soldiers in a battle.

Leisurely, Dan tucked his hands under the soft, cotton-like water that was flowing out of the sinks facet. The water bounced off of his skin sending tiny droplets to send in random directions; as if they consumed the feeling of wanderlust whole.

Dan moved the faucet's handle turning off the water. He quickly shook off his hands not bothering to grab a paper towel. He turned to leave when suddenly the bathrooms door slammed shut and a single sinewy shadow approached along the tiled walls.

"Hello?" Dan calls, staring at the wall feeling an uneasiness type of butterfly his stomach. With no response, the cheerleader took an inch of a step forward; white cleats shifting against the cold floors.

The single quiet drip, drip, drip from the sink made a faint melody that became in sync with each footstep that creeped closer.

Eyes guarded by dark, curly, long hair, Jason shifted his look up to see Dan's tense figure. "Dan," he murmured, the sound of his voice was course, unrelenting; core shaking.

Dan's shoulders fell, he closed his fists as the bathroom light seemingly flickered in Jason's presence. He hesitated before opening his mouth, tugging down at his skirt feeling his stomach ache in fear. "Jason," He attempted to sound dauntless, though his jaw shook uncontrollably.

Jason strides closer slowly and silently, only the whisper of static on his clothes could be heard. "Oh, Dan."

Dan backed away, as swiftly as possible evaporating the space between his back and the bathroom tiled wall. "Jase, please," He put up his hands, trailing his words out. "Whatever you're doing—don't."

Jason then stopped, which was unexpected, his black vans came to a halt but his eyes continued to wander around Dan's frightened form. "You scared?" He asked with a grin.

Dan looked up through his eyelashes and shook his head. "Of you? Never."

Jason chuckled taking another step closer. "Well, you should be—"

"What do you want?" Dan gulped, splaying his palms on his skirt in order to show he had nothing. "Money? My phone?" The air became dense as Jason didn't answer only tiny noises in satisfaction from Dan's discomfort came from him. "You know what'll happen if you—" he paused eyes becoming glossy. "touch me."

Jason tilted his head, pushing out his bottom lip. "I know you better than anybody at the moment," he grinned tucking his fingers into his pockets. "I know that your threats are meaningless—you have no one anymore..."

Dan looked at the ground, shaking his head. "PJ will—"

Jason cackled loudly, then pounded his fist into the wall next to him. "PJ won't do shit to me!" Dan's breathing quickened. "He doesn't love you anymore."

Dan pushes slightly against the wall finding it inside of him to fight. "Of course PJ still loves me—"

"Do you have enough brain cells to comprehend how much you hurt that guy?" Jason presses two fingers into his forehead, lips curving annoyedly. "Even I know, you telling him to not take charge as your dad killed him inside."