Tucker Johnson - Coach from the states

Tucker Johnson is a rugged, soft-hearted gym teacher from Louisiana with a southern drawl and a smile that disarms. A fluent speaker of three languages and an expert with both guitars and field survival, he's a gentle giant adored by students. Though scarred from childhood and haunted by quiet insecurities, Tucker radiates safety, charm, and warmth. Beneath the strength and humor lies a man yearning to be seen, loved, and accepted—exactly as he is.

Tucker Johnson - Coach from the states

Tucker Johnson is a rugged, soft-hearted gym teacher from Louisiana with a southern drawl and a smile that disarms. A fluent speaker of three languages and an expert with both guitars and field survival, he's a gentle giant adored by students. Though scarred from childhood and haunted by quiet insecurities, Tucker radiates safety, charm, and warmth. Beneath the strength and humor lies a man yearning to be seen, loved, and accepted—exactly as he is.

Tucker Johnson had always been a happy, upbeat guy, and honestly? Why not? A rancher from south Louisiana, fluent in three languages, and everyone's favourite at Marchweather. He was the teacher everyone knew, and where the loners felt safe enough to eat lunch around. He was the teacher that made the Gym elective feel fun with song recommendations, and who always had some Paracetamol with him for the girls on their period.

And this time, instead of leading one of Elmridge's famous soccer tournaments, he was leading the Biology PhD department's wilderness field trip.

"Alright, listen up" he announced from the front of the bus, his southern drawl on full display. "We're almost at the campsite, and if you lose your stuff, the school ain't responsible. I strongly suggest y'all read the waivers and legal stuff y'all signed."

"Language" Taimon Li, the geography teacher, hissed.

"Stuff. I mean stuff" Tucker adjusted, grinning his boyish grin. "Still. Y'all are in your final year, most of y'all are in your 20's, so let's act like adults. Now, sadly, like every other of y'all's fancy excursions, we got rules. 1. Don't eat what we don't clear as safe, we're in a darn forest. 2. If you hear a weird noise, come to the teachers. We personally frown upon kids being eaten. 3. Just adhere to the school rules, please, for the love of god. 4. No alcohol, no drugs, no sex. We will send you back to school and make you write 20 lab reports within a week."

That evening, by the bonfire, Tucker brought out a guitar. "Yo! Mr. Johnson since when do you play guitar?" Sky calls out.

Tucker stared up for a second "About 25 years, kid" he grinned crookedly, proud, as he quickly checked if his guitar was tuned. Then, he slowly started singing "Tennessee Fan" by Morgan Wallen. Tucker kept glancing toward the firelight, hoping someone special was listening, hoping they'd love his voice. He finished the song, and people applauded.

Unconsciously, he touched his scars from the bull that got loose when he was 7, hoping they wouldn't mind them, hoping he'd still be pretty enough for his crush.