Everyone knows there is a system that governs the society we live in, but few realize the existence of another hidden system that completes this visible picture.
This strange truth would reveal itself clearly on a cold September day in Oregon, USA, specifically on Columbia Avenue in Portland.
There, amidst the crowd of students heading to their schools, walked Jacob Brown, a fifteen-year-old boy of short stature, with emerald eyes that hid secrets far beyond his years, and short blond hair that fluttered in the wind—dragging his feet toward the gates of Woodbury High School. That school, about which he'd heard so many stories that made his heart race whenever he approached its imposing building, whose walls concealed a reputation for chaos that was far more than mere rumor.
With heavy footsteps, he approached the school gate, his nervous demeanor making it clear he felt unwelcome. The students stared at him momentarily before ignoring him completely, as if he were an insignificant insect unworthy of their attention.
His response was equally harsh - he stopped at the school entrance, whistled sharply at them, then turned around and made an obscene gesture with his hands.
"Screw you all!" he spat before continuing on his way.
The security guard stopped him abruptly. "Well played," the guard said, "but don't push your luck." Here, you either eat others alive if you show weakness, or become an outcast like that Arab kid. Choose your path carefully."
Jacob smiled as he entered the school. "Thanks for the advice." "I prefer neutrality... but whoever messes with me,"
He added with a dark grin, "I'll open the gates of hell for them as a farewell gift."
Then he walked inside.
The guard stood with hands on his hips, his narrow eyes following Jacob's confident retreat. A faint smile played on his lips as if recognizing in this bold boy a younger version of himself.
"This kid's going to be interesting..."
He murmured under his breath before suddenly whirling toward the still-gawking students.
"Show's over, you heard of sheep!"
He bellowed in his gravelly voice, clapping his massive hands like he was corralling stray livestock.
"Move along! Or shall I bring out my stick?!"
The students didn't need a second warning. They surged forward in a panicked wave, jostling at the gates like a buffalo stampede fleeing hungry lions. Even the tough-acting ones quickened their pace, cowed by the guard's furious glare.
As for the guard, he turned his back on the scene, though his eyes still gleamed with quiet admiration.
"Finally... someone to stir the stagnant waters."
The classroom buzzed with teenage energy. Scattered papers, raucous laughter, and paper missiles flying like unguided rockets through the air. This wasn't chaos—this was Woodbury High's definition of "normal."
Then... the door creaked open slowly.
Everything stopped.
Laughter froze midair. Conversations died. Every head swiveled toward the entrance.
There, framed in the doorway, stood Jacob Brown.
A short boy with piercing green eyes that revealed less than they concealed, his cropped blond hair dancing in the draft from the hallway.
He wore a plain white t-shirt, faded jeans, and a backpack slung over one shoulder like an unwanted burden rather than a companion.
From her desk, Miss Maria Alvarez looked up. The late-thirties teacher had elegant Latina features, her dark brown hair pulled into a tight bun. Behind her wide, thin-framed glasses hid weary eyes that had seen it all... yet something about this boy made her sit up straighter.
"Class," she said quietly, with steel beneath her calm, "this is Jacob Brown. Our new student. Let's welcome him."
The silence stretched.
Jacob moved between desks slowly, students tracking him with cold stares. Some muttered. Others snickered.
In the second row by the window sat two girls. Sarah—tall with smooth blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and curious green eyes. Beside her, Rania—shorter with cropped black hair and glasses that caught the light.
Rania leaned toward Sarah with a mischievous grin:
"Looks like a cereal box mascot."
Sarah muffled a laugh:
"Or the lead in some indie film about troubled youth."
Jacob took the only empty seat mid-row, a sardonic smile playing on his lips as if he knew exactly what came next.
He wasn't wrong.
A paper ball smacked his head. Then another.
Snickers from behind. A whistle from the right. An eraser flew. Then a pen.
"Welcome to Woodbury, shortstack!"
"Go back to kindergarten, kid!"
The laughter crescendo until Maria slapped her desk:
"Enough! This behavior is unacceptable!"
But the students barely noticed. Someone made fart noises. Another whooped. Her words might as well have been background music at a teen rave.
Maria snapped:
"Houssam! Please!"
The room was still.
From the back corner, Houssam rose, A mountain of a teenager—so tall he nearly brushed the ceiling, shoulders that seemed to displace walls. His Algerian features were sharp beneath unruly black curls. His unbuttoned blazer strained over a too-tight shirt barely containing his muscles.
He cracked his neck.
I was trying... to sleep..."
His voice rumbled like a waking beast.
Clapped his massive hands.
"Nobody taught you manners?"
Then he moved.
WHAP! A literature book on an offender's head.
THUD! Another student went flying from his chair like he weighed nothing.
DOUBLE SLAP! For the idiot laughing too loudly.
"Good people don't pick on new kids!
" Houssam roared.
"Good people let me sleep!"
The room became slapstick chaos, students scrambling under desks as Houssam plowed through like a human tornado.
Finally, he reached Jacob.
Paused. Studied him.
Extended a hand.
"Are you good, shorty?"
Jacob raised an eyebrow, then smirked.
"Enjoyed the show."
Their hands clasped. Jacob stood. As the two shared a laugh, Miss Alvarez stood dumbfounded... yet grateful in the background.
The classroom finally calmed after a chaotic outburst. Hossam had returned to his seat, having restored order in his own… unconventional way.
Maria let out a long sigh, flashing a sarcastic smile.
"Now that the circus is over," she said, waving the history book like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of a hat, "let's move on to something far more thrilling… the lesson."
She held the book up and declared, "Open your history books to page sixty-three and write a short paragraph about the reasons behind the fall of Al-Andalus."
A collective groan echoed through the room.
Hossam raised his hand sluggishly, as if it weighed fifty kilos.
Maria raised an eyebrow, amused and suspicious. "Yes, dear Hossam? What's your excuse this time?"
Hossam sat up straight, eyes serious. "Miss Maria… I have a legitimate reason that stops me from writing this assignment."
Maria blinked. "And what is that, my dear?"
Placing his hand on his chest with exaggerated sincerity, Hossam replied, "I'm Muslim… and it's forbidden to speak behind our ancestors' backs. That would be gossip and backbiting."
The classroom exploded with laughter.
Hossam continued, "And anyway, I wasn't there when it happened. I can't talk about something I didn't witness myself."
Even Maria couldn't help but chuckle, covering her mouth as she grinned.
"You just want to sleep instead of write, don't you?" she asked with mock gentleness.
"With all due respect," he said sincerely, "sometimes, a sleeping conscience is better than a distorted version of history."
Maria waved him off, shaking her head in surrender. "Go on then, Hossam. Enjoy your nap."
"Thank you so much, Miss Maria," he beamed, laying his notebook down as a pillow and dozing off amid muffled giggles.
Jacob walked alone down the hallway, eyes scanning the school walls and colorful student art. His moment of calm was shattered when a tall, arrogant student bumped into him, shoving his shoulder hard.
"Out of my way, idiot," the bully sneered.
Jacob stopped.
For two seconds, he didn't move.
Then, without a word, he calmly removed his backpack... and launched it at the bully like a boulder!
"Aaargh!" the bully cried out, crashing to the floor in pain.
Before he could even recover, Jacob charged like a kickboxing champion.
BAM — a knee to the ribs.
WHACK — a left hook to the jaw.
SPIN — a roundhouse kick flattened him like a human-shaped pancake.
But just as Jacob caught his breath, five more students approached from the end of the corridor. Their expressions were dark, their presence intimidating, like gang members straight out of a street movie.
The first one sneered, "Forgot who runs this place, rookie?"
The second cracked his knuckles. "You're not walking out of here."
The third laughed. "Came from another state just to play tough guy?"
Jacob clenched his fists, cracking them together.
"Come on then. Let's see who's crawling out."
The first lunged. Jacob blocked and hit him square in the gut. The second jumped, but Jacob kicked him straight in the chest.
A fierce brawl broke out. Jacob was holding his own — but he was becoming overwhelmed. One punch landed. Then another. The numbers began to tip the balance.
Then suddenly… a booming voice echoed down the hall:
"Is this a Netflix action scene or what?"
It was Hossam.He marched in like a storm, carrying a chair in one hand and the other stuffed casually in his pocket.
"Five on one?" he growled. "Where's your manhood, you jungle monkeys?"
He grabbed the first attacker by the shirt and hurled him into another like a bowling ball. Then he backhanded the third, headbutted the fourth, and sent the fifth running for his life until Hossam threw a chair like a mortar shell and took him down.
Standing over the heap of groaning bodies, Hossam roared, "Next time I catch any of you ganging up on my friend… I'll use a dick."
Jacob, still panting, looked up at him in awe. "Thank you… oh hero of Algeria."
Hossam smirked proudly. "Anytime, kid from New York."
Just then, Sarah and Rania arrived — too late for the battle, but just in time to witness the aftermath. The defeated students lay scattered across the floor like sacks of spoiled potatoes.
Sarah planted her foot on one of them and scoffed.
"So these are Woodbury's finest? Lions on paper, but rats on the floor."
Rania picked up a pen from the ground.
"They'll need this to write a medical report about their injuries."
Sarah turned to Jacob.
"I liked your chair moves. Very cinematic."
Rania looked at Hossam.
"You, my friend, deserve your own TV show."
Hossam yawned.
"If you'd let me sleep, I wouldn't have had to fight."
Jacob laughed.
"Well, I'm glad you woke up."
Sarah smiled warmly.
"Welcome to Woodbury, Jacob."
Rania added, "With Hossam by your side? No one dares touch you."
Jacob was smiling — truly smiling — for the first time. It was as if the brawl had birthed something stronger than pain…
A real friendship.