Nate's jaw flexed. His grip on Liam's collar loosened reluctantly. Liam collapsed back onto his chair, clutching his stomach and catching his breath.
For a tense moment, it looked like Nate might push back. But then Selena tilted her chin just slightly.. a silent challenge. And even Nate wasn't foolish enough to cross the mayor's daughter and the student council president.
He turned his glare back onto Liam, his nostrils flaring. "This isn't over, Queen." he gritted. Then, with deliberate spite, he tossed the cookie pack to the ground, and stomped it beneath his heel until nothing but crumbs and powder remained.
"And if I were you, I'd stay home from now on," he spat a final warning. "Because the next time I see you in the school premises…" his lip curled, "…You're dead."
He spat the words and stormed out, his three lackeys trailing behind him like shadows.
Silence lingered after they left. Liam let out a long, tired sigh — not of relief, but of defeat. His stomach growled at the sight of the ruined cookies. His only food, smashed into the floor. He stared at the mess, jaw tight, but he couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Selena, meanwhile, had already walked to her seat at the front by the window. Without even glancing back, she said coolly. "You really should stand up to him."
Liam gave a humorless laugh. "You think I haven't tried that?"
She finally looked at him, one brow raised. "And?"
He chuckled bitterly. "I ended up in the hospital for days."
For the first time, her stern expression softened into a tiny laugh. Then, without another word, she reached into her bag and pulled out a bright red apple. She tossed it toward him in a clean arc. "Here."
Liam caught it, blinking in surprise. "Oh, no, I can't…"
"Just take it," she cut him off firmly.
He exhaled, then smiled faintly. "Thanks… for the apple. And for, you know, stopping him before he broke my nose."
Selena gave the smallest smile, then turned her attention to the book she'd pulled out, as if the entire scene hadn't even happened.
Liam watched her for a moment, then bit into the apple. The taste was sharp, sweet, and almost overwhelming to his empty stomach. His gaze lingered on Selena a bit longer before he shook himself out of it and bent over his own book.
After a while, break was over, and rest of the school day passed in a blur. Lessons rolled by, the final bell rang, and students spilled into the hallways in loud chatter.
Liam quietly packed his bag and slipped out, heading straight toward the diner downtown where his first shift awaited him.
His day had only just begun.
As Liam left the school, he navigated the bustling streets, the city a cacophony of car horns, hurried footsteps, and distant sirens. The diner wasn't far, a short trek that allowed him to clear his head, or at least try to.
The restaurant sat on the corner of two busy streets, its faded neon sign buzzing faintly above the entrance:
BEN'S BURGERS.
The windows were wide and smudged with grease on the edges, but through them you could see the glow of warm lighting and hear the faint hum of laughter and chatter.
The smell of grilled beef and fried potatoes hung in the air, comforting and familiar. It wasn't glamorous, but to Liam, it was one of the few pockets of peace left in the city.
He pushed the glass door open, the tiny bell above it jingling with his arrival. Inside, the place was lively. A handful of customers occupied booths lined with red leather seats, munching on burgers stacked high with cheese and fries dripping in oil.
Behind the counter, a sturdy wooden structure that had seen better days, two of his co-workers, Jerry and Summer, were busy.
Jerry, a lanky teenager with a perpetual grin, wiped down the counter, while Summer, her curly hair pulled back in a messy bun, expertly stacked burger buns.
"Hey, Liam!" Jerry called out, his grin widening.
"Evening, Liam," Summer added, offering a tired but genuine smile.
Liam returned their greetings, a small smile touching his lips. "Hey, guys. Long day, huh?"
"You know it," Jerry replied, shaking his head. "Just another Monday in Clovis."
Liam nodded, a familiar weariness settling in. He walked past the counter, reaching for the door that led to the kitchen, a portal to his post-school responsibilities. It creaked slightly on its hinges as he pushed through.
On the other side was the heart of the diner… the kitchen. A sprawling space buzzing with activity and clutter. Metal counters lined the walls, stacked with cutting boards, bowls of prepped vegetables, spice racks, and sauce bottles half-squeezed.
The air was thick with the scent of grilled beef, toasted bread, and fried oil. Pans clattered, knives chopped rhythmically, and a vent above the grill hummed loudly as smoke curled up toward it.
To the right stood the sink, already piled high with greasy plates and trays, a mountain waiting for him.
At the heart of it all, by the gleaming expanse of the grill, stood Ben, the fry cook, and humble owner of the restaurant. He was a man in his late fifties, His hair was black streaked with gray, his beard full but peppered white. He wore a simple apron already stained with grease and sauce, his sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled forearms from years of work.
Despite his age, there was strength in his stance and warmth in his eyes, and a faint sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead as he expertly maneuvered a set of tongs, flipping patties with a practiced ease.
"Hey, Ben," Liam said, his voice a little strained.
Ben's head snapped up, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners as he offered a warm smile. "Liam, there you are! Good to see you, kiddo. How was school today?"
Liam sighed, the weight of the day pressing down on him. He dropped his backpack by a small, designated corner, the familiar scent of the kitchen doing little to lift his spirits. "It was… cool, Ben. Just the usual." he replied casually, making his way towards the dishwashing station, his gaze falling on the daunting pile that awaited him.
Ben watched him closely, the corners of his lips twitching upward in a knowing smile. "Cool, huh? That sigh says otherwise. What's eating you, kiddo? Flunked a test?"
Liam let out a dry scoff, rolling up the sleeves of his school uniform. "As if." he said, picking up a plate and dipping it into the murky warmth of the washing solution.
Ben chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "Just kidding. But seriously, what's bothering you? Is it those bullies again, isn't it?"
Liam's jaw tightened as he began to scrub the plate with a sponge, the repetitive motion a small outlet for his simmering frustration. He let out a dark chuckle. "It's not just the bullies, Ben. It's… everything. The whole world, y'know. It's all gone to shit, and every day I have to wake up knowing that I might not live to see the next."
He paused, letting out a frustrated breath. "It's a shitty life, Ben. And I hate it."
Ben turned back fully, spatula still in hand, his brows knitting together as he studied the boy. For a moment, silence filled the kitchen save for the sizzle of meat.
Then he spoke, voice steady but firm. "I hear you, Liam. I really do. This world can be a tough place, no doubt about it. But hating it… that's like trying to swim against a tidal wave, kiddo. It'll just wear you out."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "There's a time for fighting, sure. But there's also a time for adapting. Sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is find the little bits of good, even in the worst of times. They're there, you just gotta look for 'em. And when you find 'em, you hold onto 'em tight. That's what makes it easier to keep going, to survive."
Liam scoffed, not looking up from his relentless scrubbing. "Good side? Ben, what good side are we talking about? This life they've handed us? It's a rigged game. There's no good side, only degrees of bad. And I refuse to just accept it. I'm not going to embrace it. I'm going to fight it. I'll keep fighting until one day, I manage to eradicate it, all of it." he stated, his grip on the plate hardening.
Ben just chuckled, a soft, knowing sound. "Well if anyone could actually pull that off, Liam," he said, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "it's you. You've got a fire in your belly, a will of iron," he said with a chortle.
"But remember this, kiddo: even the strongest fire needs fuel. And sometimes, that fuel comes from knowing when to rest, when to regroup, and when to let someone else carry the load for a bit. Don't burn yourself out before you even get started."
Liam's shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension in his jaw easing. He nodded, a flicker of something akin to understanding crossing his face. "Alright, Ben," he said, his voice a little softer. "I hear you." He looked up at Ben, a genuine smile finally gracing his lips. "Thanks."
Ben grinned warmly. "Anytime, kiddo. Now, come on, get those dishes done. I've got burgers to flip." he chuckled and continued his work at the grill.
Liam only smiled. Ben was one of the few people in this city he truly respected. He was more than just his boss; he was a mentor, a protective figure who treated Liam with the kind of kindness and concern only a father would give. Sometimes Ben would even slip him extra food to take home for himself and his sister.
It was this feeling of belonging, of being part of something resembling a family, that made working at the restaurant one of Liam's most cherished escapes from the harsh realities of his life.
Just as Liam was about to dive back into the dishwashing, a sudden commotion erupted from the front of the diner: Loud shouts, the unmistakable sound of furniture crashing, and a chorus of terrified yelps pierced through the kitchen's rhythmic clangor.
"What's going on?" Liam exclaimed.
Ben froze mid-motion, then exhaled heavily. "Stay here," he muttered, already pulling the apron loose.
Liam dropped the plate back into the water and wiped his hands hastily. "No way, I'm coming with you."
Ben sighed. "Alright."
Together, they pushed through the kitchen door and into the main hall.