The Camp // Nickloon

The fluorescent lights of the school hallway hummed, casting a dull glow on the familiar scene. Balloon, his red hair neatly tied back, clutched his worn poetry notebook, his gaze distant. Across the crowded hall, Nickel, shorter and cloaked in his perpetually rumpled hoodie, leaned against a locker, a sneer playing on his lips as he watched Balloon. It was a typical day, a typical tension, a silent war waged in the space between them.

Today, however, felt different. A sense of unease settled in Balloon's chest, a premonition of something inevitable. He’d tried for years to bridge the chasm between them, to apologize for a past mistake that still haunted him. But Nickel remained an unyielding wall of resentment, his presence a constant reminder of Balloon’s past failures and a threat to his present peace.

Later, behind the school, the usual suspects gathered. Baseball and Nickel shared a vape, the forbidden smoke curling into the morning air. Suitcase and Bot watched, a mix of discomfort and loyalty on their faces. Balloon’s patience, worn thin by years of Nickel’s relentless torment, snapped. The words erupted, sharp and uncontrolled, and the fragile peace shattered, paving the way for a confrontation that had been building for too long.