#spatial speaks

“Viktor,” Kino announced wickedly. “He’s perfect.”

Jayce groaned, shaking his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” Kino crossed his arms, his grin widening. “Think about it. Total loner. Walks like he’s 80. Probably spends his weekends building robots in his basement or something. There’s no way anyone’s going to vote for him, no matter what you do.”

Jayce kept watching Viktor, who had stopped to adjust the strap of his book bag. The guy wasn’t exactly ugly—his features were sharp, but in a way that made him seem more intimidating than approachable. There was something about the dark circles under his eyes and the perpetual scowl on his face that screamed, ‘don’t talk to me.’

“C’mon, Jayce,” Kino pressed, “you said you could do it, right? Doesn’t matter who it is. Unless you’re backing out already…”

Jayce bit his cheek, fighting the urge to snap back. Kino was doing this on purpose; he knew that. Picking someone like Viktor wasn’t just about making the challenge harder—it was about watching him squirm.

“Fine,” Jayce said finally, his voice low. “I’ll do it. But don’t think for a second that I’m going to lose.”

Kino’s grin turned predatory. “Good. Go on, man. Let’s see what you can do.”