Chapter 1 - Rush

While desperately fleeing from Luca and the Ravens Club, Hugo could never have imagined that the corridors of Julia Passos School would be so endless. The slippery floor, meticulously cleaned by Mr. Ulisses, increased the risk with each step, turning any slip potentially fatal. Amidst the chaos, Hugo found himself immersed in a kind of temporal limbo, where every movement seemed eternal, suggesting these could be his last moments. The lockers in the corridor, silent guardians of so many stories, seemed to secretly root for his failure, watching each shaky step. The central clock, ironic in its immutability, seemed to mock Hugo's agony, while the windows merged into an ever-changing landscape.

The distance to the exit seemed to increase as Hugo continued, but a quick glance back revealed Feijão and Post-It — "Phew! They managed to escape," Hugo thought, breathless. Feijão showed impressive endurance, while Post-It, habitually silent, seemed about to break the silence amid the chaos.

Start of the Semester

"This won't stand!" shouted Hugo as he was taken down by the Reaper player's skin in Fortnite.

Although charismatic, Reaper had an enigmatic air, her skin's attire giving her a striking and androgynous appearance. Her pale, almost spectral skin contrasted sharply with her dark clothes. With her well-fitted black suit and silver details, she resembled a secret agent or a professional assassin. Her short, stylish hair with rebellious touches matched her mysterious personality well. Her arsenal was as impressive as her look. Carrying a variety of firearms, all maintained and ready for action, she was a specialist in stealth and precision, using her skills to surprise and eliminate enemies.

Since his father passed away a year ago, Hugo had found in games a safe refuge for his anguish and to fill the void left by his father's absence. He had always been passionate about action games, especially those involving guns, combat, and zombies — especially zombies — allowing him to connect with others without leaving the comfort of his room.

Hugo and his father were inseparable, sharing a special connection through games. "You seem not to know how to lose, The Father!" teased Reaper with a chuckle, referring to Hugo's skin name, the same one his father used when they played Fortnite together.

"Let's see if you can escape this now," replied Hugo, setting a damage trap in Reaper's path.

But before Reaper could fall into the trap, Hugo was interrupted by the sound of knocks on his bedroom door.

"Hugo, it's time to sleep. You have school early tomorrow," said Hugo's mother, visibly annoyed.

"Just five more minutes!" Hugo pleaded.

Reaper was about to fall into Hugo's trap when, suddenly, the computer screen froze. Confused, Hugo ran to the living room.

"Your mother told you to sleep," scolded Grandma Vilma, holding the router plug. Vilma was a tall and lean woman, always walking around the house with a rigid posture reflecting her arrogant and relentless nature. Her penetrating eyes always seemed to judge and disapprove, never showing any sign of warmth or kindness. To Vilma, no effort was good enough and no success worthy of praise.

Since Hugo's father's death, his grandmother had come to live with him and his mother, and she gave no rest to either the grandson or the daughter, who still suffered from her husband's loss. Hugo's mother, Holanda, was a young woman whose delicate beauty now carried the weight of loss and sadness. Her eyes, once vibrant and full of life, were now dull and surrounded by deep circles. Her once well-groomed hair was now tied up carelessly. Her relationship with her mother, Vilma, was always one of submission. Despite this, Holanda tried to maintain a sense of normality with Hugo, but it was evident that grief and her mother's pressure were taking a heavy toll.

During the last summer, Hugo spent most of his days in his room, only coming out to eat or meet with his friends Feijão and Post-It. Occasionally, he tried to stay in the living room, but his grandmother's constant grumbling or complaining made him prefer the darkness of his room. Sometimes his mother, Holanda, tried to get close to him, but she had her own problems and those days, her biggest problem was her own mother.

"I don't know why you don't give Hugo a good lesson," Grandma commented.

"Henrique and I never hit Hugo."

"That's why he's like this, not listening and not obeying anyone," insisted the grandmother.

Hugo knew that, just like him, his mother also endured the grandmother. Since his father died, they had faced financial difficulties, and the grandmother, who had some money, contributed a good part to the household expenses.

Returning to his room, Hugo threw himself onto the bed as if wanting to sink into that sea of sheets and dirty clothes. Days without his father were not easy.

The next morning, Holanda went to Hugo's room to wake him up and realized her son was no longer in bed. Desperate, she went to her mother hoping she knew something.

"If you're looking for my grandson, he just left with that weird friend of his with the colored papers," said the old lady, referring to Post-It. Since they lived nearby, Hugo always caught a ride with the friend and his mother in an old 1996 Fiat Uno, almost falling apart. Although Holanda felt relieved, she had wanted to take her son to his first day of high school.

The early morning sun filtered through the windows of the old Fiat Uno, creating a warm and stuffy atmosphere inside the car. The lively song "Bete Balanço" by Cazuza echoed inside the vehicle, filling the space and competing with the loud and off-key voice of Débora, Post-It's mother, who sang enthusiastically while driving, almost competing with the sound of the radio.

Post-It, sitting beside his mother, tried to make her stop singing using the colored papers he always carried with him. He never spoke, communicating only through these papers. With delicate gestures, he held a paper with the word "stop," but Débora paid no attention, immersed in her own fun.

Meanwhile, Débora tried to strike up a conversation with Hugo, who was in the back seat, looking out the window with disinterest.

"So, Hugo? How was your vacation?"

"Normal," replied Hugo coldly and distantly.

"Oh, we went to Salvador! The beaches there are simply wonderful, you should have seen them! Marcelo loved it," she said enthusiastically, looking at Post-It. Marcelo was Post-It's given name. He promptly responded by showing a paper to Hugo that read, "It was."

While Débora raved about the paradise beaches, the car started to sputter and a cloud of smoke escaped from the hood. She pulled the car over to the side of the road and got out to check the problem. Meanwhile, Hugo and Post-It stayed in the car, watching the situation with apprehension.

Next to them, a brand-new dark car, possibly one of those electric vehicles, pulled up and they saw Luca. To their surprise, Luca opened the backseat window and stared at them with a superior look and a sarcastic smile.

"Looks like you're having a tough day, huh? You should get a decent car, like mine." Hugo and Post-It exchanged uncomfortable looks as Luca continued, "But of course, with a family like mine, I can't even imagine what it's like to go through tight spots like this," Luca said with a smug laugh before driving off, leaving Hugo, Post-It, and Débora on the side of the road without offering help.

The tension between Hugo and Luca had been growing since elementary school and only increased over time.

The sun was already high in the sky when Hugo and Post-It arrived at school, panting from the effort of running to not miss the first class. The courtyard was bustling with students heading to their classrooms. Among them, Feijão stood out, a medium-height black boy with curly hair and a captivating smile. He approached his friends with a wave and his worn backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hey, guys! Another busy day, huh?" Hugo and Post-It returned the greeting, exchanging tired looks. "Are you guys late too? I thought I was the only one who overslept today!"

Post-It, without saying a word, just nodded in agreement. Feijão, used to his friend's silent communication, asked no more questions.

The three friends came from different backgrounds but shared a solid friendship and a common goal: to make the most of the opportunity to study at Júlia Passos, the best and most traditional school in São Paulo. They had earned scholarships allowing low-income students to attend the school, but from the moment they entered, they faced discrimination and persecution from the wealthier students.

"Hey, did you hear the latest rumor? Seems like the Heirs Club guys are planning a party next weekend. It's bound to be fancy as always," Feijão commented excitedly.

"As if we'd be invited to those things..." Hugo replied resignedly.

Post-It shook his head in agreement, his eyes conveying a mix of disappointment and resignation.

The student clubs, officially banned for over three decades, continued to exist clandestinely, maintained by the school's more privileged students. Hugo, Post-It, and Feijão knew they would never be accepted in these elitist circles, but that didn't stop them from dreaming of a fairer environment.

As the corridors of Júlia Passos filled with the buzz of students, the three friends were filled with optimism, ready to face any challenge that came their way. For them, high school represented not just a transitional phase, but an opportunity to stand out and leave their mark on the world.