S.T. Anthony School.
Paul, dressed in a crisp white shirt covered by a dark red blazer, gray trousers, and a matching red tie. Black shoes and a gray-colored plastic belt with two white lines circling around it, and in the center, an emblem of an open book and a quill, the symbol of S.T. Anthony School.
His hair was a little fuzzy. The black backpack swung on his back; he had just arrived in front of this "jail's gate." That's what Paul called this place.
He stood there blankly for a second, observing the school building, students passing by wearing the same uniform as him, chatting with their friends as always.
Paul always had this in his mind: that students' lives are always like this—carefree chatting, listening to teachers' nonsense that doesn't even make sense to him most of the time, doing homework, going to clubs, and more and more; the list goes on.
He doesn't know why he hates this kind of lifestyle, but one day after he started going to school, Simon asked him a simple question:
"Why don't you like going to school?"
At the time, he had many answers he could give to Simon, but none of them had any good reasoning behind them, so he just brushed it off. "I just don't like it; that's all there is. Nothing more, nothing less," and cut the conversation.
And now, a whole week has passed since he started his school life, but still he doesn't know—why does he hate this place? Why doesn't he like coming to this place?
As he was wondering about this and that, he started walking towards his classroom, 11th B, when a girl passed by him.
He caught sight of her, and everything came back. Why was he coming to this place?
Almost two weeks earlier.
In the office room, Paul was sitting on the sofa; opposite him, sitting alone on the sofa, was an old man, his boss, Philip Grayson.
To Paul's right side, in the center, was Sara, and to her right was Julian. Simon sat alone on a single-seater sofa to Paul's left side.
They were all wearing the same white and black dress with a black blazer; all of them had a calm expression.
There was silence, but Paul soon broke it by saying,
"Why call us here all of a sudden?"
His question was directed at Simon, who called him here, to ask the reason behind calling not only him but also Sara and Julian, too. Hearing Paul's question, the boss coughed lightly and said,
"I've noticed that lately, there haven't been any major issues in the city, or anywhere else, so I've been thinking that I should assign some upper-level tasks to Simon, Sara, and Julian."
Paul, Sara, and Julian simultaneously nodded slightly, agreeing, but Simon stayed still because he already knew the reason behind calling all of them here. This was the first reason, but there's also one left. He moved his eyes towards the three of them.
Paul also thought this was the right decision.
There was nothing major that had happened in the city; also, Paul hadn't seen any other members of the high table aside from his boss.
He also comes under them. If the tasks were assigned to them directly, maybe he can learn a few things more about them. He only knows that they exist and that they are the actual rulers of this island, but nothing more than that.
He had done what Simon always told him.
He doesn't know if it's actually from higher-ups or just normal clean-up.
Then his mind stopped—He lifted his gaze; something felt missing.
Wait! Boss didn't say his name. He wanted to say, "That boss, you forgot my name," but seeing Simon's calm expression, he thought that wasn't the case.
Boss probably had some different task to assign him. Paul didn't have any problem with that either, unless… it's about leaving this island.
As Paul waited, the boss continued, "I have another task for Paul," and he passed the tablet, which was placed on a glass table, towards Paul and in the other direction.
"You'll attend S.T. Anthony School from next week and monitor this girl's safety, or if she faces any other issues in the future."
And before they could say anything, Boss stood up from his seat, walked past them, and went outside the room.
Paul was still trying hard to comprehend what the boss just said. "School? Me? To monitor some girl? Her safety?"
He stood up thinking, as he heard a faint laugh coming from beside him.
It's Sara.
Maybe she knew the girl, but Paul ignored her and walked hurriedly towards the door to catch up with the boss.
Julian grabbed the tablet and examined the picture—an eighteen-year-old girl, he thought. He didn't recognize her, but still, he could feel it internally that this girl's face seemed familiar to him.
He asked slightly, "Who's she?"
Simon, looking at the back of Paul, replied with a slight sigh, "She is…"
Paul tried to talk with the boss, but the boss didn't agree to his request.
Later that evening, Paul got the necessary information from Simon. He learned that she's the boss's daughter, and also she didn't have any good relationship with him.
She lives alone in the apartment.
Since Alex isn't here, you're the only one who can keep a close eye on her, because she doesn't know you.
He shifted to a new place not far from the school, and obtained a new uniform and clothes. His life took an unexpected turn, and a few days later, even though he didn't want to go to school, he started attending.
Soon, the chime of the bell rings as Paul steps into the lively classroom.
He walked to his seat in the corner on the right side, beside the window, avoiding any unnecessary conversation.
He hasn't spoken to anyone else at this school aside from his class teacher and a few individuals. Even calling them conversations isn't accurate.
On his first day, the teacher asked him to introduce himself.
He simply nodded and stated his name, Paul. That was all. He didn't elaborate and walked towards the farthest seat in the corner, and that was both his first and last introduction.
He sat down, removed his backpack, and first looked out the window, then shifted his gaze to the classroom.
Students were still coming and going, engaged in baseless conversations.
"Yo, did you catch the new season that dropped last night?"
"Nah, man, I was grinding yesterday, you feel? I took an L last time, but I ain't gonna ghost her this time."
"Hey, *mofos*, am I trippin' or did Rika's *assets* get a glow-up lately?"
"Wait, for real?"
"Wait, y'all didn't hear? She's got a dude from the upper class, I heard."
"Oooo, Jenna! Your hair is looking super shiny and smooth today! What conditioner are you using?"
"Ohh, really..."
As he observed the students and listened to their conversations, a faint light appeared in the dark abyss.
What makes you another person's friend, or what does the word "friend" stand for?
Even Paul wasn't exempt from such thoughts. Was it just for this type of baseless chatter, protecting secrets, or maybe giving advice?
Are we also friends?... No... we aren't.
If that's what it means to be friends, then he also has some people like Sara, Julian, Simon, and Alex, who is currently overseas.
Although he doesn't share details about his daily life because he feels he has nothing to share.
But they talk about work, and just yesterday, he and Sara were discussing Sara's personal life. He even gave her advice, although he sometimes felt annoyed whenever Sara made fun of him, he doesn't hate her.
Sinking deeper into darkness, he wondered, what would happen if… if Sara were to die today? Would he feel sad for her? Would he be willing to cry for her?
They are just colleagues, and in this line of work, not only Sara but almost everyone is always playing with their lives. Was the bond between them really that strong?
He doesn't remember the last time he felt sad or cried for someone. If she were killed by someone else, would he avenge her?
Of course…
As he wandered around the endless abyss, his eyes locked onto one girl.
She was sitting in the back left corner of the bench.
She had long, sleek, and soft black hair that reached her back. Her black, shiny eyes, filled with wonder and quiet curiosity, were framed by subtly curved brows, giving her an expression of understated sincerity.
A small, pert nose and a light dusting of natural blush over her cheeks all gave an impression of gentleness and innocence at first glance. She was taking books out of her backpack.
But she was quickly overshadowed by another girl.
A girl with light brown eyes beneath well-curved brows, giving her a clear and perceptive, slightly intense, and thoughtful gaze.
Her smooth blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, her soft cheekbones well-defined with a slightly upturned nose.
She was sitting in the second row on the last bench. Paul knows this girl.
The sole reason he was attending this jail without committing any crimes.
Yep, she was Paul's boss, Philip Grayson's, daughter: Varsha Grayson.
As he shifted his gaze forward, his eyes met Varsha's, and for a second, he paused.
But his eyes were already fixed on the blackboard.
Varsha too, without giving it much thought, focused her mind on the upcoming class.