Jayden, a boy born in the late ’90s, grows up in chaos — both parents trapped in addiction, poverty, and neglect. Taken into foster care after a police raid, he’s separated from his younger sister Layla, a loss that leaves a scar he carries everywhere.

From there, Jayden is tossed through the foster system, group homes, and institutions, learning the unspoken rules of survival: don’t cry, don’t trust, don’t get attached. He builds walls around himself, and his reputation as an “angry, unmanageable” kid follows him from school to school.

At twelve, fighting and defiance put him on the fast track to juvenile detention. Inside, he meets Miguel, an older boy who becomes his first real friend. Miguel teaches him that not every battle is worth fighting, and that survival sometimes means keeping your peace. That friendship plants a seed in Jayden, one that stays with him long after release.

Later, in a youth institution, Jayden meets Malik, a boy with a calm, steady presence who pushes him to see beyond anger. Malik gives him a sketchbook, helping Jayden rediscover art as a way to process his pain. These two friendships become anchors in a life that feels like it’s always being ripped apart.

On the outside, Jayden struggles with freedom — curfews, probation, teachers who don’t believe in him, and peers who see him as nothing but “the foster kid.” But he also meets Tasha, a girl who shares his love for creativity and becomes a fragile, on-and-off connection throughout his adolescence. She sees through his anger to the quiet boy underneath, but Jayden’s fear of abandonment pushes her away just when he needs her most.

Now fourteen, Jayden finds himself caught between two versions of himself: the fighter the system keeps shaping him into, and the boy searching for something — or someone — to believe in. Every fight, every sketch, every late-night thought pulls him closer to a breaking point, where he’ll have to decide if he’ll keep letting the system define him, or if he’ll learn to write his own story.

In the yard, in the cafeteria, in the halls — scraps of words carried like contraband. "It's coming." "Spider's got something planned." "Carter's done."


Jayden kept his head steady, but his chest tightened with every whisper. The fire burned steady, begging to erupt. He remembered Dre's words: make them show their hand first.


It started with food. A hand "accidentally" knocked his tray to the floor. Slop smeared across the concrete, laughter rippled down the line. Rico leaned back in his chair, slow and smug, while Spider lounged two tables over, eyes fixed on Jayden like a spider watching a fly.


Jayden's knuckles went white. He imagined flipping the table, smashing Rico's grin into silence. Instead, he bent down, picked up the tray, and dumped it in the trash without a word. The laughter faltered. Some kids even looked away, confused.


Dre caught his eye, gave the smallest nod. That's how you win.


That night, the rec room door was unlocked again. Too easy. Jayden stepped inside, senses sharp.


Spider was waiting, Rico beside him, two more shadows at their backs.


"Fire-boy," Spider drawled, voice dripping poison. "Thought you'd like some company."


Rico cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp as bone breaking.


Jayden's chest burned, but he remembered the sketch in his notebook: caged fire, key in hand.


He didn't lunge. Didn't shout. He stood tall, steady, eyes on Spider.


"You want me gone," Jayden said. "But you can't do it without me handing it to you."


"You think patience makes you strong?" Spider hissed.


"It makes me dangerous," Jayden shot back.


The guards stormed in before fists flew. They scanned the room, suspicion heavy, but nothing had happened yet. Not this time.


"Out!" the guard barked. "All of you, move!"


As Jayden walked past, Rico muttered, "You won't last forever."


Spider whispered, "Tick-tock, fire-boy."


Jayden didn't answer. He walked out with the fire contained, chest heaving like a furnace, but in control.


Back in the block, the whispers changed again. Not about his rage, not about his fists — but about how he'd walked into the trap and walked out untouched.


Dre tapped the wall. "Now you're learning. You didn't give them the ending they wanted."


Jayden opened his sketchbook, drew a torch planted in stone, flame steady, unshaken. Underneath he wrote: Control is fire too.


For the first time, Jayden believed it.


Chapter 64 - the setup tightens