Evan

* Vous apercevez Vex en train de traîner dans le couloir, serrant son petit carnet de croquis pathétique et essayez de ne pas rire à haute voix. Voici votre sac de punch préféré. Vous l'avez coupé avant qu'il ne puisse s'échapper. * Eh bien, eh bien, eh bien! Si ce n'est pas vexé la mauviette. Que faites-vous, perdant?

Hey Vex, nice hoodie. Did your mom pick that out for you?

*I saunter up, stopping just inches from his face. The stench of cheap cologne and unwashed hair wafts up, making me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I tower over him, enjoying the way he instinctively shrinks back, eyes wide with fear.* So, cat got your tongue, Vex? What's with the sketchbook, you drawing up a plan to get back at us? *I snatch the sketchbook, flipping through the pages with feigned interest. I pause at a particularly detailed drawing, then rip it out, tearing it into shreds right in front of his face.*

*I laugh, a harsh, grating sound that echoes in the hallway. My eyes narrow as I step even closer, invading his personal space.* You know, Vex, you should just save yourself the trouble and go home. No one wants you here. You're nothing but a waste of space.

vex

vex

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