#schoolau

The Outlaws of Blackridge High

⸻

Kamor adjusted the straps of his backpack and kept his head down, staring at the cracked pavement beneath his feet. The bus stop was nearly empty, just him and a few distant figures who hadn’t bothered to acknowledge his presence. That was fine. If he kept his head down, he’d be fine. That’s what he told himself.

But even as he tried to convince himself of that, his fingers twitched against the fabric of his hoodie, betraying his nerves.

New school. New people. New chances to mess up.

The bus screeched to a stop in front of him, its paint peeling, exhaust coughing out in thick clouds. Kamor hesitated for just a second before stepping up, slipping into the first open seat he could find near the middle. He pressed himself against the window, gaze fixed on the outside world as the bus lurched forward.

He didn’t look up when someone slid into the seat beside him. Didn’t even react. Until—

“Howdy, partner.”

Kamor stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head.

The guy sitting next to him grinned, sharp and easy, like they were already old friends. He was dark-skinned but had splashes of white across his face and arms, like paint strokes on a canvas. His hair was a mess of loose curls, and he was dressed like he’d walked straight out of an old Western—boots and all.

Kamor blinked.

The stranger tipped an imaginary hat. “Name’s Hipswitch. You must be the new kid.”

Kamor stared, unsure how to respond.

Hipswitch’s grin didn’t waver. “Ain’t much for talkin’, huh?”

Kamor shook his head.

“Gotcha. Don’t worry, I can do enough for both of us.” Hipswitch leaned back, crossing his arms. “Welcome to Blackridge High, partner. The school board might’ve given up on us, but that don’t mean we’re a lost cause. You stick with me, and you’ll be just fine.”

Kamor wasn’t sure he believed that. But as the bus rolled toward the school, with Hipswitch chatting beside him like they’d known each other for years, he felt the weight of his nerves lighten. Just a little. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

⸻

By the time the bus rattled to a stop in front of Blackridge High, Kamor’s nerves had settled into something manageable. That didn’t mean they were gone—just dulled by the constant chatter of the cowboy beside him.

“—so then I told ‘im, ‘Look, partner, if you’re gonna throw a punch, at least make sure it lands.’” Hipswitch laughed, shaking his head as he stood and stretched. “Didn’t end well for me, but hey, I made a point.”

Kamor gave him a look, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Hipswitch grinned. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m real good at gettin’ into trouble. But don’t you worry—I don’t start fights with just anybody. Only the ones that deserve it.”

Kamor wasn’t sure if that was reassuring.

He followed Hipswitch off the bus, gripping the straps of his backpack as he took in the sight of his new school. The building was old, the paint peeling, and the front doors barely hanging onto their hinges. A group of students loitered near the entrance, most of them wearing scuffed-up jackets and torn jeans. One girl was carving something into the wall with a pocketknife.

Hipswitch must’ve noticed his hesitation because he clapped a hand on Kamor’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, partner. Most of ‘em bark more than they bite.”

Kamor wasn’t convinced.

“C’mon, let’s get your schedule.”

Hipswitch led the way inside, weaving through the crowded halls like he’d done it a hundred times—which, Kamor figured, he probably had. The walls were covered in graffiti, and a few lockers were missing doors. A flickering light overhead buzzed like it was on its last breath.

They reached the front office, a cramped space that smelled like burnt coffee and regret. Behind the desk sat a woman in her late forties, her hair pulled into a messy bun, dark bags under her eyes as she typed sluggishly on an old computer.

Hipswitch leaned on the counter with his usual easygoing charm. “Mornin’, Miss Darla. Got a new one here, needs his schedule.”

Miss Darla barely looked up. “Name?”

Hipswitch nudged Kamor.

Kamor hesitated, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a small notebook. He flipped to a page and showed it to her.

Kamor.

Miss Darla squinted, sighed, and started typing. A moment later, the printer coughed out a piece of paper, which she handed over without much enthusiasm.

“Try not to get into trouble,” she muttered before turning back to her screen.

Hipswitch plucked the schedule from Kamor’s hands before he could read it himself. “Let’s see what we got here.” He scanned the paper, then grinned. “Well, well, look at that. We got a few classes together. Looks like you’ll be stuck with me for homeroom, history, and—oh, hey! Lunch. That’s the most important one.”

Kamor took his schedule back, scanning the list himself.

“Alright, partner, let’s get you to class,” Hipswitch said, throwing an arm around Kamor’s shoulder like they’d known each other for years. “You ever get lost, just look for the best-dressed cowboy in this hellhole.”

Kamor huffed out something close to a laugh.

⸻

Kamor sighed as he stumbled into his next class, gripping his schedule like it was a lifeline. This was the first class he didn’t have with Hipswitch. Which terrified him.

His eyes darted around the room, searching for an empty seat, and he made a beeline for the one next to the window. Classic anime protagonist move. Yeah, he knew. Total nerd stuff. But so what? He was a weeb, and he’d own it.

He slid into his seat, exhaling slowly, trying to steady himself. The classroom was loud—students chatting, throwing crumpled-up papers, one kid half-asleep at his desk already. Kamor kept his head down, gripping the edge of his desk like it might keep him from floating away.

Then, movement caught his eye.

Two boys sat a few desks away. They looked similar. Same sharp features, same dark hair. Twins?

One of them turned toward him. He wore glasses and had a kind, nervous smile, like he wasn’t sure if he should say hi or not.

Kamor hesitated—then gave a small smile back.

The boy seemed relieved.

Then Kamor looked at the other one.

The second twin wasn’t smiling. At all. Instead, he had this glare—sharp, calculating, like he was trying to figure out if Kamor was worth acknowledging or not. The air around him felt colder somehow, like even the chaos of the classroom didn’t touch him.

Kamor quickly looked back out the window.

Great. He just walked into a class with the literal embodiment of nice twin, scary twin.

And he had no idea which one was worse.

⸻

Kamor’s eyelids grew heavier, and before he knew it, he was resting his head on the desk.

It wasn’t his fault. The teacher had left the room, and the class was just too boring. The students weren’t even paying attention, most of them talking amongst themselves or doing their own thing. Kamor figured no one would mind if he caught a quick nap.

The next thing he knew, he was jolted awake by the unsettling feeling of being watched. His heart raced as he sat up quickly, eyes scanning the room.

There.

The twins.

The one with glasses—Mahatma—was staring at him with a curious, gentle gaze, but it was the other one, Attila, who sent a chill down Kamor’s spine. The glare Attila shot him felt like it could freeze him in place. Kamor’s stomach twisted.

Okay. Yeah. He was definitely going to be killed or something.

Just as Kamor began to shrink in on himself, the door to the classroom swung open, and in walked none other than Hipswitch.

“Yo, partner!” he called, grinning. “Let’s skip.”

Kamor blinked. Skip on the first day? What was this guy—crazy?

Before he could fully process what was happening, Hipswitch was already walking toward him, the twins standing up from their seats with surprising ease. They didn’t look happy to be interrupted, but they weren’t exactly mad, either. Kamor noticed the way they seemed to know Hipswitch.

“Hey, fellas,” Hipswitch greeted them with a smirk. “This here’s Kamor. New kid.”

Mahatma smiled and waved shyly. “Hey there, Kamor. Welcome to Blackridge.”

Attila gave a small nod but didn’t say anything, his eyes still narrowed in a quiet appraisal.

Hipswitch chuckled and slapped Kamor on the back, already steering him out of the classroom. “You’ll get used to ‘em, partner. They’re alright. Kinda rough around the edges, but who isn’t, right?”

The teacher, somewhere in the back of the room, was still absent, probably off doing whatever the school staff did when they didn’t feel like doing their jobs. Kamor figured that, at this point, the whole school was too broke to care.

As they walked down the hall, Hipswitch kept his arm around Kamor’s shoulder. “So, what’s it gonna be, Kamor? The rest of the day’s all ours. You in for a little adventure?”

Kamor blinked, glancing back at the classroom door, still open behind them. Skipping school on the first day?

Hipswitch grinned, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Come on, partner. I’ll show you how we do things around here.”

⸻

Kamor, to his credit, did try to stay in class. He really did. He had planned to get through it, maybe try to make a good impression—if he could just survive the twin glares and the general awkwardness of being the new kid.

But then Hipswitch decided he wasn’t having it. Before Kamor could even open his mouth to protest, Hipswitch casually slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Let’s roll, partner!”

Kamor barely had time to grab his things before Hipswitch was already halfway out the door. He wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or just resigned to his fate.

“Put me down!” Kamor muttered, but it came out as more of a weak protest. He didn’t really want to fight it; if anything, Hipswitch’s carefree nature was starting to rub off on him.

Once outside the classroom, Kamor was finally set down, his feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. They walked down the hall with Hipswitch leading the way, his loud, confident voice drawing a few curious glances from other students.

Kamor walked beside him, his gaze flicking over to the twins.

“So,” Kamor began, writing quickly on his notepad, his handwriting neat and careful. “What’s your deal?”

Mahatma, walking just ahead, glanced back over his shoulder. “Our deal? Well, uh…” He scratched his head nervously, looking at Attila for reassurance. “We used to go to a small school. For medical studies. But, well… it didn’t exactly work out.”

Attila grunted from behind them, his usual expression of quiet disapproval settling into his features.

“Yeah,” Mahatma continued. “We weren’t exactly, uh, the most stable mentally, so they kicked us out. Now we’re here.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but there was a hint of regret in his tone.

Kamor wrote down a quick note. Medical school, mental instability… interesting. He looked up, noticing that Mahatma’s gaze was on his notepad

“That’s some nice handwriting you got there,” Mahatma commented, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Kamor blinked in surprise and shrugged, feeling a flush creep up his neck. Was that a compliment? He wasn’t used to this kind of attention.

“Thanks,” Kamor wrote on his notepad, then added, I like to keep things neat

Mahatma chuckled softly. “I can tell.”

Attila, who hadn’t spoken much, seemed to glance at Kamor’s notepad briefly, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything, but the faint shift in his demeanor made Kamor wonder if the twins weren’t as different as they appeared.

“So, Kamor,” Hipswitch called from the front, “ready to get into some real trouble?”

Kamor didn’t know what exactly that meant, but given the way his day was already going, he figured he might as well embrace it.

⸻

Kamor’s curiosity piqued as Hipswitch led the way behind the school. The atmosphere here was different—darker, more chaotic. The distant sounds of shouting and grunts filled the air.

“What’s going on back there?” Kamor wrote on his notepad, looking up at Hipswitch, who didn’t seem surprised at all.

“You’ll see,” Hipswitch replied with a grin that didn’t exactly inspire confidence. “Just another day at Blackridge.”

They turned the corner, and Kamor’s eyes widened. A brawl was taking place, right in the middle of the school’s back alley. One guy was being pummeled with punches, his opponent relentless and furious. But what caught Kamor’s attention was the figure standing in the middle of it all—Hipswitch was calling out to him.

“Albus!”

The guy, Albus, was a mess of bruises and sweat, but there was a certain fire in his eyes as he fought back with everything he had. His movements were quick, his stance solid, but the other guy had the advantage of height and sheer strength.

Hipswitch sighed, shaking his head as he approached. “Seriously, Albus, can’t you fight without getting into every fight?”

Mahatma flinched as another punch landed. Kamor glanced over at him, seeing the way his shoulders tensed at the violence, his gaze flickering nervously between the fight and his twin, Attila, who was standing off to the side with an almost… amused look on his face.

“You’re too soft, Mahatma,” Attila muttered, crossing his arms. He watched Albus with an almost cruel expression, leaning in slightly. “You should be encouraging him to hit harder. This kid needs to learn the hard way.”

Kamor’s stomach twisted. Was Attila serious

Mahatma looked uncomfortable, but he said nothing. He just shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting back to Albus, who was now on the defensive. Kamor could feel the tension in the air. This wasn’t a typical school fight.

With one last punch, Albus managed to shove his opponent away, panting heavily, his face bruised but his pride intact. He stood there for a moment, catching his breath. Kamor could see that there was more to Albus than just a delinquent—there was a kind of restless energy in him, something Kamor couldn’t quite place.

“Alright, break it up,” Hipswitch called out with a voice that brooked no argument.

Albus wiped blood from his lip, then turned his head toward Hipswitch, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Guess I won again, huh?”

Hipswitch shot him a pointed look, one eyebrow raised. “You always win, Albus. But do you have to do it like this?”

Kamor watched as Albus approached, brushing off his clothes like nothing had happened. His eyes flicked over to Kamor for a split second, then back to Hipswitch. “Who’s the new kid?”

“This is Kamor,” Hipswitch said, slapping him on the back with a laugh. “New recruit to our little misfit group.”

Albus raised an eyebrow, sizing Kamor up. “Another one, huh? I’m Albus. You’re gonna need thick skin if you hang with us.”

Kamor blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. He wrote down on his notepad, A bit intense, huh?

Albus chuckled at that, ruffling Kamor’s hair in a way that felt oddly… protective. “You’ll get used to it. Welcome to Blackridge.”

⸻

Kamor quickly fixed his hair, smoothing down the messy strands that had been ruffled by Hipswitch’s earlier antics. He couldn’t help but glance at Albus and Hipswitch as the two started their usual banter.

“So, Hipswitch,” Albus started with a mischievous grin, leaning in a bit too close for comfort, “you finally brought someone new to the squad? I’m honored to be in the presence of such fine company.”

Hipswitch rolled his eyes, but the playful smirk never left his face. “Cut it out, Albus. You flirt with anyone who breathes.”

“Hey, can you blame me?” Albus shrugged dramatically. “I mean, who wouldn’t be charmed by this?” He struck a pose, chest puffed out as if trying to impress someone.

Kamor could only watch in awkward silence. He was used to things being chaotic, but this? This was a whole new level of weird.

Hipswitch chuckled but gave Albus a firm shove. “Knock it off, before I knock you out.”

Albus just laughed, clearly unbothered by the threat. “I’m just having fun, Hipswitch. You could use a little more fun in your life.”

Meanwhile, Kamor’s mind was elsewhere—his thoughts drifting to Hipswitch’s earlier touch when he had been lifted up like a sack of potatoes. The warmth of Hipswitch’s hand on his back lingered in his thoughts. He shook his head to clear it. Focus, Kamor. Focus.

As if sensing his distraction, Hipswitch suddenly turned his attention back to Kamor.

“Hey, let me help with your hair,” Hipswitch said, his voice soft as he approached.

Kamor blinked, not sure how to respond. His cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t pull away as Hipswitch gently started to smooth down his hair. Kamor had never really been one to care much about his appearance, but something about Hipswitch’s touch made him feel a little… flustered.

Albus, who had been watching the scene unfold, leaned in with a grin. “Oh, I see it now. Kamor’s got a little crush on you, huh, Hipswitch?”

Kamor froze, his eyes widening. No, no way. He couldn’t have figured it out that fast.

Hipswitch looked completely oblivious, still focused on fixing Kamor’s hair. “What? No. You’re imagining things, Albus.”

But Albus wasn’t backing down. He looked Kamor up and down with a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh, I’m not imagining anything, trust me. You’re just too cute to ignore.”

Kamor’s face went red, and he quickly looked down, focusing on the ground to hide his embarrassment.

“Yeah, Hipswitch,” Albus added, grinning wider, “you’re too dense to notice, but I can see it. Kamor’s totally got a thing for you.”

Hipswitch paused for a moment, still not getting the hint. “Whatever, Albus. You’re ridiculous.”

⸻

It had been four weeks since Kamor stumbled into Blackridge High, and he had quickly gotten wrapped up in the chaos that defined this place.

Albus was, of course, at the center of it all, always throwing a punch or dragging Kamor into a new mess. Kamor had tried to stay on the sidelines, but Albus had an irresistible way of pulling him into trouble.

This time, it was a fight—nothing new for Albus. But what was new was Kamor getting caught in the crossfire and ending up with a black eye.

Hipswitch was furious

“Are you kidding me, Albus?” Hipswitch barked, his mechanical fingers twitching as he paced back and forth. Kamor sat on the nearby bench, one hand pressed against his bruised face, trying to hide the pain.

“It’s not like I planned for it to happen!” Albus protested, hands thrown up in defense, but there was a slight smirk on his face. “You know how it is.”

“I don’t care how it is! You’re supposed to be looking out for Kamor, not getting him hurt!”

Kamor winced at the tone in Hipswitch’s voice, but he didn’t say anything. This was a fight between the two of them—he wasn’t going to get involved.

Mahatma and Attila, meanwhile, were too preoccupied with their latest experiment to notice the drama unfolding. Kamor had caught glimpses of their “work” over the past week—Mahatma and Attila had taken to stitching dead frogs together in an attempt to “revive” them. Kamor was both terrified and slightly intrigued by the whole thing, but it was hard to focus on the science when there was a very real chance of them blowing up the entire lab in the process.

“Maybe we should stick to just dissection?” Kamor wrote one day, trying to keep it polite.

“Don’t be a sissy, Kamor,” Attila had snapped, a wicked grin on his face as he held up a needle and thread. “This is where the real work happens.”

Kamor had no idea how to respond to that. He just stayed back and tried not to breathe in whatever concoction was in the air.

And then came the day at 7/11.

The gang had been hanging out, as usual, and for some reason, they all forgot their wallets. The plan? Well, Albus had no problem suggesting they steal.

“Come on, it’s just a couple of snacks,” Albus said with a wicked grin. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Before Kamor knew it, the gang was bolting out of the store, bags of chips and soda in hand. Kamor had no intention of being part of this, but the group had already dashed through the door. The security alarm rang out as they sprinted down the street, and in a matter of seconds, they were surrounded by cops.

The gang stood there, frozen. The cops searched their bags, but there were no snacks in sight. Albus looked utterly confused. “Uh, did we leave them in the car?”

Kamor watched from a distance, still clutching the bag of chips he had picked up earlier. But when the cops were distracted, he made his move.

As the gang was getting ushered out of the store by the police, Kamor led them around to a back alley. He flashed them a quick smile before pulling the stolen goods from under his jacket—hidden all along.

The gang stared at him, eyes wide. Kamor didn’t even look guilty as he casually tossed the goods at Albus.

“That’s how you do it,” Kamor said with a grin.

Albus blinked, his mouth agape. “You did steal them?”

“Are you sure?” Attila raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be the innocent one, Kamor.”

Mahatma just shook his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. You are quick with your hands.”

Hipswitch, who had followed them into the alley, chuckled softly. “And here I thought you were just a quiet kid who never did anything wrong.”

Kamor just smiled, leaning back against the wall as if it was no big deal

Albus leaned closer, whispering in Kamor’s ear, “You’re definitely one of us now.”

⸻

The next day, the sun filtered through the thick canopy of the overgrown willow tree, casting dappled shadows across the worn grass beneath it. Kamor sat cross-legged, a stack of tarot cards shuffled lazily in his hands. He had been doing this for a while now, ever since one of his many foster homes had gifted him the cards. They were a simple way to pass the time, a habit he’d picked up without much thought.

Beside him, Albus was sprawled out, taking an exaggerated nap. His heavy breathing and soft snores were carried away by the light breeze that rustled the leaves of the tree. The whole scene was peaceful in a way Kamor wasn’t used to—a kind of calm that felt out of place with the chaos of Blackridge High. But right now, it was just him, Albus, and the gentle wind.

The shuffle of the cards was rhythmic, almost meditative. Kamor’s fingers moved with practiced ease, not really focusing on the patterns or the cards themselves, just the motion. He wasn’t sure why he had this particular habit, but it helped him tune out the noise of the world, at least for a little while.

Albus snored again, the sound echoing in the quiet air, and Kamor couldn’t help but smile a little. The guy had no shame when it came to naps. Not that Kamor could blame him; who wouldn’t want to tune out sometimes?

The wind picked up a little, and one of the cards slipped from Kamor’s hand, drifting onto the grass. He reached to grab it, but before he could, Albus suddenly flopped over, knocking a few more cards from Kamor’s lap.

“Hey, you’re messing with my spread,” Kamor wrote on his notepad, showing Albus, who lazily squinted at the cards.

Albus blinked, still half asleep. “Huh? Tarot cards? You a fortune-teller now, Kamor?

Kamor just shrugged, holding up the card that had fallen to the ground. “It’s just a hobby,” he wrote.

Albus yawned, clearly not understanding but still mildly entertained. “Well, maybe you can predict when I’m gonna win my next fight. Would be handy, right?” He stretched, his arms reaching for the sky as he fully woke up.

Kamor gave him a deadpan look, then returned to his cards, shuffling them again. The sound of the cards moving through his fingers was calming once more.

In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of students rushing between classes, the distant chatter and the low hum of the school’s broken bell system. But here, beneath the willow tree, the world felt distant.

Kamor wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting there when the sound of footsteps interrupted the peace.

“Alright, you two. Time to get moving,” Hipswitch’s voice broke through the stillness, his voice low and slightly amused.

Kamor looked up to see Hipswitch, along with Mahatma and Attila, walking toward them. All of them looked like they’d just come from a grueling exam.

Albus grinned up at them lazily. “Hey, look who’s come to ruin the vibe.”

Hipswitch rolled his eyes. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, but the rest of us have things to do.”

“Like what? Ruining lives and making trouble?” Albus said with a playful grin, sitting up and stretching.

Mahatma smiled, offering Kamor a small wave as Attila just gave him a silent nod.

“Didn’t know you were into fortune-telling,” Mahatma said, his eyes scanning the cards Kamor had laid out. “They say tarot cards can predict the future, right?”

Kamor shrugged, holding up the deck. He didn’t have much to say, but the cards in his hands had become a quiet comfort over the past few days.

“Not exactly,” Kamor wrote on his notepad.

Attila tilted his head, a slight smirk on his face. “Guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves, huh?”

Kamor gave a small, cryptic smile before starting to shuffle the deck again.

⸻

The gang had, as usual, found their way into a mess. It was Hipswitch, Mahatma, Attila, Albus, and Kamor—albeit, Kamor was the reluctant participant in this particular adventure. The plan was simple: sneak into the nearby movie theater. It was easy enough to get past the run-down staff, especially when most of them couldn’t care less about a few kids sneaking in to watch something they probably shouldn’t.

Kamor had nodded along with the group, not really having a say in the matter. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do, and being around the chaos was starting to feel normal. Besides, it wasn’t like he could turn down the gang entirely. He was beginning to realize he was stuck with them, whether he liked it or not.l

Albus had an idea, of course. “Let’s sneak into a movie with a sex scene,” he’d said with a wild grin, nudging Kamor in the ribs.

Kamor blinked, unsure how to react, but before he could even try to process the idea, Hipswitch had immediately thrown it out.

“No way, Albus,” Hipswitch said firmly, his tone the kind of serious that only happened when he was ready to play the role of the “adult” in the group.

Albus grumbled but didn’t push it. Instead, the gang snuck into a random theater showing a horror movie. The kind of movie with way too much blood and way too many screams.

Kamor wasn’t exactly a fan of horror. In fact, he wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to it, especially with his ever-growing anxiety and fear of things he couldn’t fully remember. Still, he kept quiet and followed along, seating himself between Hipswitch and Albus.

The movie started, and the screen lit up with disturbing images. At first, Kamor thought he could handle it. He sat quietly, his eyes glued to the screen, trying to be brave. But then it happened.

The scene was too much. A crazed man was carving into a victim, blood spraying across the screen in grotesque detail. Kamor’s stomach twisted, and his heart began to pound. His hands shot up to his ears in a futile attempt to block out the sound.

The scene felt too real. The screams of the victim echoed in Kamor’s mind, and for a moment, the theater felt like it was closing in on him. His breath came in sharp, shallow gasps, his chest tightening with panic.

Albus, who had been munching on popcorn, glanced over at him and frowned. “Hey, you okay?”

Kamor didn’t answer. His mind was too clouded with images he couldn’t place—shadows of his childhood, fragments of something dark and painful that he couldn’t fully remember. His hands trembled as he squeezed them over his ears harder, trying to block out everything around him.

He didn’t know why this scene triggered him, why it felt so familiar. He couldn’t explain the memories that crashed into him like waves—just brief, fragmented images of pain and confusion. The trauma was locked away in parts of his mind, and moments like this tore at the seams, making him remember things he didn’t want to know.

Hipswitch, sensing the tension, leaned over and gently nudged Kamor’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to watch it,” he said, his voice soft but firm, almost protective.

Albus noticed the way Kamor was reacting, his eyes wide, his body stiff with fear. His playful grin faltered for a moment, and he looked to Hipswitch for guidance.

“Dude, you good?” Albus asked again, his usual cocky demeanor gone, replaced by something softer.

But Kamor couldn’t respond. He felt like he was suffocating, trapped in his own memories. His body was shaking now, and the darkness of the theater felt more like a prison than a place of escape.

Mahatma was the first to notice how bad it was getting. He leaned forward, his face serious. “Kamor, hey, look at me,” Mahatma said, his voice gentle but commanding. Kamor felt his attention shift to the other boy, and his trembling fingers slowly moved away from his ears.

It wasn’t much, but it helped.

“Breathe, Kamor,” Mahatma urged softly. “You’re fine. We’re all here.”

The words hit Kamor with a strange weight, and though his heart still raced, he could feel the panic starting to fade. Slowly, his breaths returned to a more even rhythm, though his chest still felt tight.

Albus was quiet now, watching Kamor with a rare, concerned expression.

“You want to go?” Hipswitch asked, his voice as calm as ever, though his brow was furrowed with concern.

Kamor nodded, just barely, still unable to find his voice.

Without another word, Hipswitch stood, gently helping Kamor to his feet. “We’re leaving. I’ll make sure you get home, okay?”

As the gang quietly filed out of the theater, Kamor felt the weight of his memories pressing down again, but this time, he wasn’t alone. Hipswitch was there, the others trailing behind, and maybe for the first time since coming to Blackridge High, Kamor felt like he wasn’t just floating through life.

They were his people. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

⸻

It had been a few days since the incident at the theater. Kamor hadn’t spoken about what happened—he didn’t need to. The gang didn’t push him, understanding that everyone had their own burdens to carry. Hipswitch was the first to notice that Kamor hadn’t shut down since, though. He was quieter, still a little distant, but the light in his eyes hadn’t disappeared.

Today, they were in class, and Kamor had already given up on learning. The classroom was droning on, the teacher’s voice a dull hum in the background. Kamor sat at his desk, his head resting on his folded arms. Sleep was creeping up on him, and as his eyelids grew heavier, he let himself slip into the warmth of unconsciousness.

It wasn’t long before Kamor’s hand drifted. Maybe it was the sleepiness, maybe the strange comfort he felt from being around Hipswitch—maybe it was the overwhelming sense of trust he’d started to build—but Kamor’s hand reached out, fingers brushing against the cold, smooth surface of Hipswitch’s prosthetic arm.

The moment he touched it, Kamor’s heart skipped a beat. He pulled back instinctively, but it was too late. Hipswitch had already caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” Hipswitch said softly, looking down at Kamor with a gentle smile. “You know you can touch it if you want. I don’t mind.”

Kamor blinked, unsure of how to respond. He had never really touched it before—had never dared. But there was something about the way Hipswitch was looking at him, something reassuring in the way his eyes softened. Slowly, Kamor’s hand returned to the arm, this time with more purpose, gently tracing the cold, smooth surface.

Hipswitch’s smile widened, a warmth bubbling up inside of him that he didn’t quite understand. It was like a soft, quiet thing—a feeling he hadn’t expected but somehow welcomed. Kamor’s touch was so delicate, so careful, and Hipswitch found himself savoring it in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“You don’t have to be afraid of it,” Hipswitch continued, his voice low, almost contemplative. “I got it in a fire. Chemical fire, back in my early foster home. It was… rough. But I was lucky. After everything, a man named Sensei took me in.”

Kamor nodded slightly, his fingers still lightly tracing the prosthetic’s smooth surface. He was fascinated by it, not just because it was mechanical, but because it was a part of Hipswitch. Something personal. Something that, even though he didn’t fully understand, seemed to tie into the man’s past.

Hipswitch paused, watching Kamor, his thoughts wandering for a moment before he continued. “Sensei was the one who paid for all my treatments. Helped me get back to something that felt… like me again. He’s the one who got me here. And now, here I am.”

Kamor looked up at him then, meeting Hipswitch’s eyes. It was almost like a silent understanding had passed between them. Kamor didn’t have to say anything. He didn’t need to. But Hipswitch knew he was listening—he could see it in the way Kamor’s fingers continued to trace the prosthetic.

There was something warm in Hipswitch’s chest now, something soft and new. He didn’t quite know what it was, but he didn’t mind. There was something comforting about Kamor’s presence. Something that had been missing from Hipswitch’s life for a long time.

For Kamor, it was a strange feeling too. He had always felt disconnected, like he was floating through life, never truly part of anything. But with Hipswitch… it was different. There was no judgment in the way the older boy looked at him, no expectation. Just acceptance.

He couldn’t explain it, but the simple touch of Hipswitch’s arm felt like a bridge between them—a bridge he didn’t want to burn.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Kamor reluctantly pulled his hand away, glancing up at Hipswitch once more.

“Thanks,” Kamor wrote quickly on his notepad, his eyes soft with a kind of gratitude he wasn’t used to feeling.

Hipswitch smiled, his usual easy grin returning, though there was still a flicker of that strange warmth in his chest. “Anytime, partner. Anytime.”

⸻

It was October at Blackridge High, and for once, the school was buzzing with an energy Kamor hadn’t seen before. The usual chaos and neglect seemed to be replaced by something… organized. It wasn’t much, but for a school that barely functioned, the sight of decorations strung up in the hallways and students running around with excitement was a strange but welcome change.

Kamor stared out the window in his classroom, watching a couple of students work together to set up a banner that said “Annual Fall Festival: Blackridge High.” He had never been to anything like this before. It was his first year at this school, and the concept of a fall festival was new to him. Back at his old schools, they had only hosted the usual sad bake sales and field trips, but nothing like this.

Mahatma, who had been eagerly talking to him all morning, seemed completely excited about it. His eyes sparkled with the kind of energy Kamor only saw from people who loved something with all their heart. “It’s tradition!” Mahatma explained, his voice full of enthusiasm. “Every year, the students get together to celebrate the fall season. There’s food, games, costumes, and just a lot of fun! This year, they’re even doing a haunted house! You’ll love it!”

Kamor’s eyes widened. He’d never really been one for festivals—let alone haunted houses—but the way Mahatma spoke about it made him feel like it might not be as terrible as he first thought. Besides, it was the first time he’d been around people who seemed so eager for something good. He was curious.

Before he could ask any more questions, a loud crash and a maniacal laugh pierced the air. Kamor jumped, his head snapping toward the source of the noise.

Up on the roof of the school, there was Albus. Of course, it was Albus. He was standing there, arms spread wide, with a wild grin plastered on his face. “It’s the Fall Festival, baby!” Albus yelled, his voice carrying all the way down to the students below. “Let the chaos begin!”

Kamor blinked, his heart racing as he processed what he was seeing. Albus was… on top of the school.

A few seconds later, Kamor’s other favorite person, Hipswitch, appeared, his robotic arm effortlessly moving as he scaled the side of the building. “ALBUS!” Hipswitch’s voice rang out, stern and commanding. “Get down from there right now before you do something stupid!”

The whole scene was a mess, and Kamor couldn’t help but feel slightly terrified. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at Albus, who was still laughing like a madman, and then at Hipswitch, who seemed like he was about to tear his hair out.

Mahatma, standing beside Kamor, shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Don’t mind them,” he said, his tone calm as always. “Albus has this way of turning every event into a spectacle. He’s the chaotic one. Hipswitch is the one who has to clean up after him.”

Attila, who had been quiet until now, smirked from behind them. “Just wait until they start setting up the haunted house,” he said in his usual deadpan manner. “That’ll be a real mess. But hey, it’ll be fun. We might even get kicked out of the school by the end of the day. Who knows?”

Kamor’s eyes widened. “Wait, you get kicked out?”

Attila shrugged nonchalantly. “Probably. You’ll see.”

The entire school seemed to be in a frenzy. Students were setting up food stands, hanging decorations, and painting random things on the walls. Kamor wasn’t sure if it was just the usual chaos of Blackridge or if it was something more. One thing was for sure—if this was a glimpse into what the fall festival was going to be like, he might need to find a way to stay out of the way.

But it was too late. Before he could escape the madness, Hipswitch was already approaching him, holding out his hand with that usual calm grin of his. “C’mon, partner. You’re part of the gang now. No backing out. Let’s go check out the festival. You might even enjoy it.”

Kamor hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go—it was just that everything felt so… overwhelming. The loudness, the chaos, the madness. But then, Hipswitch’s smile made it seem okay. Maybe he could trust the process.

“Fine,” Kamor wrote on his notepad, “but I’m staying far away from the haunted house.”

Hipswitch grinned wider. “Deal.”

As they headed toward the mess of festivities, Kamor couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement building inside him. Despite the chaos that was sure to follow, there was something oddly comforting about being here, in the middle of it all. And with Hipswitch by his side… maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to go through it alone.

But knowing Albus, Mahatma, and Attila, Kamor had a feeling that the real fun was just beginning.

⸻

The autumn sun hung low in the sky as the fall festival continued, chaos and fun still swirling in the air. Kamor had managed to get some distance from the madness, sipping a drink he’d grabbed from one of the stands, his mind still trying to digest everything happening around him. The festival, despite the initial overwhelming experience, was… oddly comforting in its own way.

However, what caught his attention next was the sight of Albus, standing off to the side, staring intensely at someone. Kamor’s gaze followed, and it didn’t take long for him to spot the person who had caught Albus’ attention: Devlin. The older brother—or, rather, stepbrother—had arrived at the festival with a quiet but noticeable presence. He was slightly awkward, a contrast to the wild energy of the rest of their group, but there was something about his demeanor that stood out to Kamor.

Devlin was tall, but not as intimidating as Albus. His frame was lean, his movements methodical, as though he was always thinking a few steps ahead. He had a strange, warm smile, almost apologetic, as he approached Albus

Albus shot a glare at his older brother, crossing his arms in irritation. His usual carefree energy was dampened for a moment as he seemed to stand tall, trying to make himself look even bigger than usual. “What are you doing here, Devlin?” he grumbled, his voice half-annoyed, half-amused. “Did you come here to ruin my fun, or are you just checking in on me to make sure I don’t burn the place down?”

Devlin chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re still my little brother, Albus. I just… thought I’d stop by. See how you’re doing. Mom and Dad wanted me to make sure you weren’t causing too much trouble.” His voice was smooth and calm, but there was a subtle tension in the way he said it.

Albus’ eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, they’re not my parents, are they? Not like they ever cared anyway. Doesn’t matter to me.” He turned away slightly, his gaze shifting back to the festival activities. “I’m not the one they ever cared about.”

Devlin sighed, his face softening. “You know that’s not true, Albus.” He took a step closer, but his words felt heavy. “Dad may not have been the best, but… I want his approval. I always have.”

Albus stiffened at that. “Yeah, but you’re the perfect little golden boy, aren’t you? Smart, well-behaved, always doing what he says. I don’t care about any of that. I’m me. But no, he didn’t care, and you know it.”

Kamor, watching the exchange from a distance, felt a pang of discomfort. It was like he was witnessing a silent battle between two people who were linked by blood but divided by their experiences.

Albus snorted, breaking the silence. “And besides, you’re not even sporty like the rest of the family. What does Dad care about a guy who can fix cars and engineer things? He doesn’t care about brains. All he ever wanted was someone to be a star athlete like the rest of his kids.”

Devlin’s gaze faltered, just for a moment, but his expression remained patient. “I know, Albus. But I can’t change that, can I? I’m just trying to get through it, do the best I can. For me. For the family. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you succeed, too.”

Albus shot a look at Devlin, a bit softer now. Despite his usual bravado and teasing, there was a vulnerability to his posture as he grumbled, “I still don’t care about him. But… I’m glad you’re here.

Devlin gave a small smile, the awkwardness between them easing just a bit. “Always, Albus. Always.”

The tension between them seemed to lighten a little, but Kamor could tell the scars of their shared history ran deep. Albus, with all his loudness and defiance, was just as hurt by their father’s neglect as Devlin was, in a different way. Albus hid it behind teasing and rebellion, while Devlin wore his need for approval like a second skin. They were bound by family, but their relationship was fractured, each struggling to navigate the expectations and disappointments placed on them.

As the conversation came to an end, Albus finally relaxed, leaning against the nearest post. “Alright, alright. You’re not so bad, Devlin. Go ahead, hang around. Just try not to lecture me while I’m having fun.”

Devlin chuckled softly, the unease between them melting away for now. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Albus.”

Kamor, who had been quietly observing, couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy for them both. Family wasn’t always easy, especially when it felt like it was more about proving your worth than actually being seen for who you were. But at least, for a moment, it seemed like the brothers were finding their way back to each other, even if it was just through small words and awkward smiles.

Kamor took a slow breath, glancing over at Hipswitch and the others. The chaos of the festival was still in full swing, but for once, it felt a little quieter in his head. Maybe there was something to all of this after all.

The fall festival’s chaos reached new heights as Albus and Devlin grinned mischievously, sizing up the game booths. Albus cracked his knuckles, a wicked gleam in his green eyes. “Alright, little bro, you use your brain, I’ll use my muscles. Together, we’ll dominate these games.”

Devlin smirked, his engineering mind already whirring with plans. “With your strength and my strategy, we’ll be unstoppable. They won’t know what hit them.”

They took a few steps toward the first booth, but before they could even get close, a hand shot out and yanked them both back, pulling them off their course. Albus stumbled slightly, his eyes widening in surprise, only to find himself face-to-face with none other than Faith.

Her sharp eyes locked with Albus’s, and despite the usual bravado that Albus wore like a second skin, he felt a flutter in his chest. His green eyes softened as he gazed at her, a genuine affection shining through, though his tough-guy demeanor tried to mask it. He flashed her a crooked grin, his voice teasing as always. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker. Here to save the day again?”

Faith arched a brow, crossing her arms over her chest with a look that could melt steel. “You two are seriously going to cheat?” she asked, her voice full of disbelief. “You’ve already been warned about the whole no cheating rule, right?”

Albus’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. “Hey, a guy’s gotta get his wins somehow. And you love the charm.”

Faith rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t know why I even bother with you two. You’re so much trouble.” She paused for a moment, before her gaze shifted from Albus to Devlin, who had been trying to suppress a laugh at the interaction. “We’re all supposed to do this together, remember? I promised Kerano we’d hang out today.”

Albus stiffened for a moment at the mention of Kerano, his mood slightly dimming as he glanced at the younger child. He couldn’t help the twinge of frustration that rose within him. Kerano was this sweet, adorable kid that had wormed her way into their lives. But what bothered Albus most was that he wasn’t sure how to fit in when it came to Faith and Kerano. And it didn’t help that Faith always treated him like a kid, a troublemaker, and not the guy who could protect her.

But what made Albus cringe the most was the fact that Faith was so damn good at reading him. She knew the walls he put up, and yet she still kept coming back, still dragging him along. He was so not good enough for her, but he didn’t know how to let go. His feelings were complicated, and no matter how much he tried to act like the tough guy, Faith had a way of getting to him.

Devlin, on the other hand, was silently seething, and he knew that his brother’s feelings were obvious. He just wished Albus would realize it and stop acting like he wasn’t good enough for someone like Faith. Devlin had his own frustrations with their family, but he could see how much his brother struggled with feelings for Faith. He couldn’t help but find it a little annoying that the two acted like love-struck idiots whenever she was around, but deep down, Devlin knew they were just being themselves.

Faith glanced back at her little cousin, Kerano, who was eagerly waiting near the edge of the crowd. The child bounced up and down, practically jumping in excitement. Faith softened, her serious tone shifting as she looked back at Albus and Devlin. “Kerano’s been dying to play those games, and I promised her we’d all go together. So, no more cheating, alright?”

Albus, ever the flirt, leaned in a little too close, his voice low and teasing. “Well, Faith, I guess I’ll have to make up for my lost victories by winning your heart instead. How about that?”

Faith rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the blush creeping up her neck. “Albus, you’re impossible.”

Devlin snickered, but it was clear that beneath his teasing, there was a sense of protectiveness toward his little brother. The kid’s got it bad, he thought, his irritation mixed with a strange sense of sympathy. But he’s not wrong about the way Faith looks at him…

With a sigh, Devlin placed a hand on Albus’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Come on, man. Don’t make it weird. Let’s just go before Kerano drags us all into the chaos.”

Albus shot one more smirk in Faith’s direction, but for the first time, it wasn’t just about teasing her—it was genuine. “Alright, alright. But next time, I’m definitely winning you over, Faith.”

“Not if I win first,” she replied with a teasing glint in her eye, before she turned toward Kerano.

Kamor, still hanging at the back of the group, watched the exchange unfold with a curious expression. There was something about the way Albus and Faith acted around each other that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t know what was going to happen between them, but he could feel the tension in the air, something unspoken but very real. It was like watching a scene from one of the romance shows his parents used to let him watch, only this one had real people in it.

The group, now fully intact, headed toward the game booths, the festival’s chaos buzzing around them. Kamor was content to watch the others interact, his thoughts drifting as he looked at the way Albus and Faith played off each other. There was an undeniable connection between them, even if neither of them seemed to fully understand it just yet.

Kamor knew something about connections. He was starting to realize, despite everything, that he was part of something much bigger now. He had his own tangled feelings, his own little crush on Hipswitch, but for once, he wasn’t afraid to be part of something chaotic and messy. It wasn’t perfect, but it was his.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

As the group moved through the crowded festival grounds, the chaos of the fall festival enveloped them. Albus and Devlin were already making their way to one of the game booths, with Kerano bouncing alongside them, chanting for Albus to win her a stuffed animal. Kamor followed behind them, a quiet observer of the whole scene, while Hipswitch and Mahatma lingered near the sidelines, each trying to avoid getting roped into more trouble.

Faith, however, was momentarily distracted by something else—someone, in fact.

A flash of blonde hair caught her attention, and before she could fully process it, she found herself bumping into a person in the crowd. The stranger had quick reflexes, managing to catch Faith before she stumbled back.

“Whoa, sorry about that,” Faith muttered, her voice laced with surprise as she stepped back and glanced up at the person she’d collided with.

The girl she bumped into had wild, tousled blonde hair and a look in her eye that immediately made Faith realize this was no ordinary encounter. The stranger had a smirk that bordered on mischievous, and she was staring at Faith as if she’d just bumped into her on purpose—probably to get a better look.

Faith blinked. “Uh, no problem.”

The stranger’s eyes lit up in an instant, and she straightened her posture, clearly taking the moment to compose herself. “Sorry! I wasn’t paying attention, you know… just, uh, distracted,” she stammered, trying to look casual, but it was clear she wasn’t.

Faith raised an eyebrow, her own smile forming. The girl had clearly been trying to flirt, though it was a bit on the awkward side. Faith chuckled softly, finding it endearing. “It’s fine,” she replied, giving the girl a quick once-over. “Not every day I get bumped into by someone this… interesting.”

The stranger—Kit, as Faith quickly noticed on her name tag—blushed deeply at the comment, realizing how much of an idiot she was making of herself in front of this gorgeous woman. She stuttered a bit before her confidence kicked in, and she cleared her throat. “Well, I mean, maybe it’s not the worst thing to bump into someone… like you?” Kit’s voice wavered just a little, as if unsure how to follow through with the flirtatious remark.

Faith couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re not bad at it,” she teased. “But you’re gonna have to try harder if you wanna win my attention.

Kit, looking completely flustered but still determined, nodded earnestly. “I’m, uh, totally up for the challenge,” she replied, her voice trying to sound cool despite the blush creeping up her neck. She gave a small, shy grin, but before she could say anything else, Faith’s attention was diverted once again.

“Albus, for the love of God, don’t throw that ball at him!” Faith shouted, her voice full of exasperation.

She turned just in time to see Albus, with that characteristic grin on his face, winding up for a perfect pitch at one of the game operators—a poor guy who had just been caught rigging the game. Kerano, the little ball of energy, was chanting, “Do it, Albus! Do it!” from the sidelines.

Kit’s face lit up with sudden understanding as she caught a glimpse of Albus. She muttered under her breath, “Oh, great, that guy looks fun.” Her eyes flickered back to Faith, who was now attempting to de-escalate the situation.

“You’re gonna have to save your flirting for later,” Faith said with a wink, her tone light but with an underlying command. “I’ve got to stop this idiot from causing a scene.” She gave Kit a quick smile before turning away, heading toward Albus.

Kit stood there for a second, blinking and trying to suppress her embarrassment. She had just attempted to flirt with someone who could have been straight-up out of her league, and now, she was getting caught in a small battle of egos involving what looked like a pretty intense rivalry.

But it was clear Faith wasn’t fazed by any of it. With that, Kit’s smile turned a little more mischievous. “Alright, I’ll take the challenge later,” she said to herself, a little more confident than before. She watched Faith hurry off, her heart racing.

L

Meanwhile, Albus was still holding the ball, a dangerous glint in his eyes. His smile was that of a man who found all rules to be optional, especially when he had the perfect target. But before he could make his move, he was intercepted by Faith, who wrapped him in a chokehold from behind.

“Albus, if you throw that, I’ll make you play every booth game until your arms fall off!” she scolded, her voice full of playful threat. Kerano giggled at the scene, clapping her hands.

Albus sighed dramatically but gave in. “Alright, alright, I’ll spare the guy,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “But he deserved it! He was totally cheating!”

Faith let him go, shaking her head but smiling. “I know. I saw. But trust me, starting a riot at the festival is not how I want to spend my afternoon.”

To continue

I kinda lost interest of this. Might come back to add things. Uuhhh don’t know.