For each of us, things and events present themselves differently. We cannot afford to be envious of the happiness of others. Happiness comes in different forms; we need to be attentive and know our needs to seize the opportunity when it arises.

Do we know what it's like to love and be loved when we are young? Are our choices considered? We will never know if we never try it, and love does not wait for age. It falls on you.

And fate? Does that mean anything to you?

So no matter how hard you try to change it, it remains unchanged. What is written cannot be undone. 

At Woodhill, a private high school located in the heart of New York, the elites of this society come together to receive the best academic training of all time. All these teenagers are descendants of responsible and prosperous families.

But as it is written, there are always exceptions when there are rules enacted somewhere. Among the rotten-spoiled petty-bourgeois, a few children from the small society are accepted as little geniuses. They all have brilliant brains; that's the only thing they have in common with New York City's future leaders.

Again, there are a few exceptions among those who can afford academic training worthy of their social rank but do not have the required level. But as they say, between friends, we support each other. Money makes the law. Of course, you can be brilliant but can't afford to access Woodhill. On the other hand, if you are part of this bourgeois elite, you are unlikely to be denied access.

There is a boy with the most interesting personality in this category, who is intelligent but does not have sufficient means. Some say that he is bipolar, others say that he has schizophrenia, and so many stories circulate about him, but no one really knows who he is.

Howie is the name of this mysterious boy who is being chatted up in Woodhill. A god-sand-beautiful, intelligent, and talented boy who, unfortunately, is poor and disturbed. Some see him as a waste because of that.

No One Will Ever Hurt You Again I Promise

Oliver realizes what his brother must be thinking right now, which makes him pull away from him like he's making him sick. He indeed said hurtful words to him this morning, but he was not in a normal state. 


Now that he sees the recoil and disgust on his brother's innocent face, he says to himself that he's the one who made him this way. Because of him, he now realizes that his behavior towards him is a tad suspicious and inappropriate. 


He placed his hand over his mouth, realizing his gourd as his eyes widened in dread. "No, no," he said to himself, "not that, please. I didn't mean it that way, and I don't want you to change your habits with me. I was just beside myself and said foolish things with that foul mouth of mine." 


"I know you're my brother, and you love me as I love you, but don't let my words sway you, and what's between these boys doesn't concern us. For us, it's different. I know it." 


The Night Will Be Very Long