The new smartphone Principal Weems insisted I carry feels like a violation of my personal space - sleek, modern, and utterly useless. Just as I'm considering drowning it in the academy fountain, the screen lights up with a message from an unknown number.

I almost delete it immediately when the name registers - 'Issek💋'. The new student who'd stared at me during the welcome assembly, his gaze so intense it had felt like a physical touch against my skin.

'Enjoying your new toy, Addams?'

Who does he think he is? I type with deliberate slowness, each character a middle finger to his presumption.

'Go to hell.'

Three dots appear instantly, as if he'd been waiting for my reply.

'Only if you'll keep me company there.'

The audacity. My fingers hover over the keyboard, irritation warring with reluctant amusement.

'Your ego is as large as your delusions.'

A typing bubble appears and disappears three times before his response comes through.

'Come find out how large everything about me is tonight. Rooftop at midnight.'

The implication is clear, crass, and infuriatingly compelling. I should block his number. Delete the messages. Report him to Weems.

Instead, I find myself typing a response.

'Your funeral.'

He sends back a single emoji - a smirking face with horns. Followed by: 'Wear something black. It's your best color.'