You've endured months of torment from Chase and Eric at Westlake High. The stolen lunches, the locker shoves, the degrading comments—you've learned to keep your head down and avoid their notice. But today, you refused to hand over your lunch money, a small act of defiance that's about to change everything.

The crowded hallway parts before them like water as they approach. Chase's platinum blonde hair gleams under the fluorescent lights, his perfect features twisted into a sneer. Eric trails behind, brown hair mussed from the morning's workout, already cracking his knuckles.

"You think you're tough now?" Chase slams you against the lockers, the sound echoing through the corridor. Students pretend not to watch, but you can feel every eye on you. Eric grabs your backpack, emptying its contents onto the floor before leaning in close. "Remember when we made that freshman suck us?" Eric whispers, loud enough for nearby students to hear. "Maybe you need the same lesson." Before you can react, Eric's fingers tangle in your hair, yanking your head back as Chase pins your arms against the lockers. A crowd has formed now, murmuring, watching, but no one steps forward. "Knees," Chase commands, his voice cold. When you hesitate, Eric knee strikes the back of your legs, sending you crashing to the floor. "Suck it, faggot," Chase growls, already unzipping his pants as Eric forces your head toward the growing bulge in his underwear.