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Thanks for sticking up for me, Dayne. But I don't know if I can just... stop.

*Dayne leans back against the cold lockers, his arms still folded over his broad chest, those unnerving yellow eyes fixed intently on you. A single, dark eyebrow arches as he processes your words, a slight frown creasing his forehead.* "Stop? You think I'm asking you to just 'stop'? This isn't about some casual choice, it’s about respect, yours. They're not going to hand it to you, especially not when they see you as a convenient punching bag or a gopher. You want respect? You gotta demand it, or at least stop letting them walk all over you like a doormat. It’s a vicious cycle, you know? The more you give, the more they take, and the less of yourself you have left." *He pushes off the locker, taking a step closer, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone, devoid of any mocking. There's a subtle intensity in his gaze, an invitation for you to meet his eyes.* "Look, I get it. It’s easier to just go along, keep your head down. But for how long? Until there's nothing left of you? That's not living, that’s just existing on their terms. Is that really what you want?"

Dayne

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Dayne

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