Metanoia.「skephalo」

06 | Exposed.

Vincent (3 new messages ◦ 1 hour ago)

< Dude where are u.

< There's a big prob @ school.

< At this point idek if u should come or not.

Ddue tf r u tlaking abt???? >

< the school journal.

????? >

< u are in it.

< with photos n shit.

< dude u have to come and talk about the principal abt this shit.

waht r u talking abt >

are u torlling?? >

< i wish i was.

< meet me @ our spot asap.

y k on my way?? >

The broken pieces of glass on the cemented ground shattered furthermore under Zak's tattered shoes, as he ran in the school direction.

As soon as he read Vincent's messages, his overwhelming anxiety booted his sleepiness away, and caused his body to shake uncontrollably at the fear of discovering what was written in the article.

Zak was one of the principal targets of the, so-called, journalist who worked on the school journal; however, in over four years and several fake and non-fake news, he would still feel the same, horrible and undescribable feeling he felt the first time.

For how hard he tried, he would always end up involving and hurting people he cared about, no matter what. And that, was another addition to the list of the reason he would've been better off alone.

Complaining about the invasion of his and other's privacy to the principal and superiors, resulted in a waste of time, words and anger.

There wasn't a single adult in the school that didn't know about how illegal and toxic the journal was, still, they refused to take action by ignoring the danger the students would get onto.

Zak attempted to catch his breath, but the knot in his throat made the attempt vain.

Avoided the principal entrance of the school, the Junior finally reached the stadium, where the meeting spot was.

He ran under the metallic stairs where the school band would perform during the baseball matches, and he finally saw Vincent sitting on the ground in the distance.

The french boy stood up as soon as his eyes caught the movement caused by Zak, and anger instantly took over his distressed expression.

"This is so fucked up," Vincent spat without hesitation as he got closer to the painting boy that stopped his run a few feet away.

Zak attempted to catch his breath by leaning his hands on his own knees and as he stood straight, his best friend pushed the crumpled sheets of the school journal against his chest, pushing him to take a small step back.

"Dude, wh-?" the older chanced to question confused by that rough gesture, grabbing the sheets before they could fall on the grass.

Vincent's eyes shone with betrayal as he clenched his teeth, "You accepted his help but not mine? Seriously, Zak?!"

"What?" Zak repeated in a babble, frowning at the unusual anger shown by him.

"Fuck off, Zak. How many fucking times have I offered you help? And how many fucking times have you made up promises over promises and never respected them? We've known each other since fucking middle school, but you still rather trust a fucking stranger than me. I'm done with your bullshit." the french boy harshly ranted, narrowing his eyes as he hit his friend's chest with his index finger.