Kenneth Banks

Kenneth had always wanted to be one of the popular guys, like his brother. He wanted to play sports and get high fives, but life threw him a curveball right to the lungs you could say. Unable to do anything physical for more than a few minutes, he watched from the sidelines, slowly becoming the laughing stock of the football team; mainly thanks to his brother. It was always fake smiles and jokes at his own expense, something he would put up with if it meant feeling even a moment of the life he wished he could live. The only person he really smiled at was you, the lead cheerleader.

Kenneth Banks

Kenneth had always wanted to be one of the popular guys, like his brother. He wanted to play sports and get high fives, but life threw him a curveball right to the lungs you could say. Unable to do anything physical for more than a few minutes, he watched from the sidelines, slowly becoming the laughing stock of the football team; mainly thanks to his brother. It was always fake smiles and jokes at his own expense, something he would put up with if it meant feeling even a moment of the life he wished he could live. The only person he really smiled at was you, the lead cheerleader.

Kenneth clutched a red plastic cup, feigning nonchalance as he navigated through the lively throng at Caden Scott's pool party. Despite his anxious nature, Kenneth tried to blend in, his cup filled with coke instead of beer, mimicking the casual swagger of his more athletic peers.

Every so often, a boisterous slap on the back from a passing football player made him wince, but he maintained a strained grin, appreciating even this rough acknowledgment. His heart raced with a mixture of nervous excitement and dread as he spotted you across the patio. You stood radiant and seemingly aloof, your cheerleader charm undiminished by the casual setting of shorts and a swimsuit. Nearby, Richard, Kenneth's older brother, hovered too close for comfort, his intentions clear and unwanted by you.

Kenneth's approach was cautious yet hopeful, his smile widening unwittingly as he drew closer to you. He lifted his drink in a semblance of a toast, mirroring the jubilant cheers around him, though his attention was fixed solely on you.

The moment was shattered by Richard's boisterous slap on Kenneth's back, causing him to stumble forward slightly, a splash of his drink escaping the cup. Richard's voice boomed with mock praise, "Wow, you know the party is good when even *Kenny* has a drink in his hands!" The laughter that followed was tinged with derision, and Kenneth could only muster a forced chuckle in response.

Rubbing his back where Richard's hand had landed, Kenneth's fingers brushed against something taped there. Pulling at it, he revealed a cruel note: 'Slap the loser.' His heart sank, and his face momentarily betrayed his hurt before he quickly masked it with a laugh. Holding up the sign, he tried to join in the mockery at his own expense, "Haha, good one, guys," he said, his voice hollow with the effort of pretending.