Rhys : Gloves

[Dirty f*g]

[Even the crab was afraid of you]

[Are you sure you're not paying for likes?]

[Ugly]

Rhys usually never responds to negative comments. He prefers to ignore them, even though he takes some pleasure in reading them, especially when he's feeling low, like that morning.

The first day back didn't go as planned, and Rhys knows that, no matter how hard he tries to keep a low profile, this day won't be any better.

It all starts with an anonymous message, different from his usual haters.

["You should stop and think about retirement"]

Zooming in on the profile, there's nothing indicating their identity.

Looks like my dad pretending to be young on the internet.

Without thinking, my fingers tap on the screen of my phone.

["What a poor way to seek my attention"]

The response was almost immediate.

["Not everything revolves around you"]

["Maybe not everything , but you do!"]

The car jerks to a sudden stop, and I'm thrown forward in my seat. My phone slips under the seat, but thankfully, the seatbelt prevents me from tumbling out.

"Excuse me, Sir. We've arrived," Henri announces.

"It's nothing, Henri. Don't bother picking me up tonight, I'm going home with Nissa," I reply.

"Very well, Sir. Should I prepare the guest apartment?"

"No need," I dismiss him.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and slide out of the car, taking in the view of sector three ahead.

It's not reassuring, and I'm already thinking where to hide during lunchtime. As I shut the car door, a flash of red hair catches my eye. A girl is sprinting towards me, waving frantically.

"Rhys! Wait!"

Henri turns off the engine and steps out of the car, addressing her politely, "Miss."

Nissa slows down, cradling a furry ball in her arms."A cat? Are you finally rebelling?" I ask jokingly, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"It's not what you think. I know animals are forbidden. I just need to hide it today until we find its owner," Nissa explains urgently.

Henri reaches out to take the animal. "You should have let it roam the school grounds, it would have been funny."

"That's exactly what the mischief-maker was doing! Now the purples have nothing to fear,"

"Great, this act of bravery deserves at least someone to pay your bills,"

"Rhys! Look on the bright side; we received an invitation from the purples to an exhibition at the museum!"

I follow her lead, signaling for Henri to return home.

"And you know how unlikely it is that the purples mix with us."

" Stop your fanaticism; we'll never unite with them, and even if we could, I wouldn't."

Nissa digs into her pocket and slips a few coins into the hands of two elementary school boys.

" Take this and stop playing with the big kids. Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

The two boys stick their tongues out at her and run off. I smile at her as I open the door in front of us.

"After you, Miss."

"Stop mocking me."

As we arrive in front of the classroom, a figure waves enthusiastically at us.

"Nissa, Rhys!"

- "Hey, Caspian! Ready for another day?"

"As if he had a choice..." I mutters.

"Why do you have a bandage on your cheek? Did you get hurt?"

"It's nothing ! Just slipped, happens all the time,"

"You should be more careful,"

As we settle back into our seats, our social studies teacher claps her hands to gather our attention.

"Come on, children , hurry up! I'm excited to give you your new tests that will follow you throughout the semester,"

Nissa pulls out her notebooks first, scanning the board.

" My name is Mrs. Nicegiving, and I will be your teacher for "Life in Society" course. I don't really tolerate latecomers , but if the excuse is valid, we can arrange something."

Mrs. Nicegiving is young for a teacher. Her light blonde hair shines under the sunlight streaming through the windows. She brings the classroom to life on her own.

Whether present or not, it wouldn't have changed much.

I grab a pen and pretend to write something on the first page of my notebook.

"My dear children, communal life is crucial. There's nothing like the joy of being together, sharing memories, and bursts of laughter.

These are precious moments that enrich our existence. As you approach the end of your high school journey, I encourage you to make everyone's life a little more enjoyable, including your own.

May this year be engraved among your best memories, ready to be reopened in ten or twenty years, recalling your warm gestures."

Mrs. Nicegiving retrieves three small locked boxes from her drawer, each with a golden lock.

" This year, I want you to give gifts to the other three sections of the school. Each time you give a gift, take the time to write on paper what kind of gift it was, to whom you gave it, and why you chose that person."

"But what if we are broke ?"

She folds her arms on the wooden desk and tilts her head to the side.

"Caspian, is it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

" Gifts aren't limited to material good, they can also be personal assistance, a fireside chat, or advice.

These are treasures expressed through simple gestures. A smile can sometimes change a person's life without the giver even realizing it.

All of this is valid."

Nissa scratches her neck with a sigh.

" I can say goodbye to my average grade now, Mrs. Nicegiving, there's no color other than blues who would want my gifts."

" Are you sure? Think carefully, you have all year to record your actions. I don't necessarily expect quantity but quality. Use this exercise to bring a little more cheer into your daily life and that of others, okay?"

Among all the absurd tests I've had in this subject, this one is by far the worst.

Mrs. Nicegiving tortures her students with her smiles and torture boxes. It's the only memory I'll have of this year in ten years, that's for sure.

At the end of the hour, as we pack up our things, someone knocks on the door.

Our teacher opens it and lets in a girl with neatly braided gray hair at the back. She wears candy-colored hair clips all over her head.

Everyone knows who she is. Annwyn Sunspears, the Green delegate.

"Annwyn! What brings you here?"

"Hello, Mrs. Nicegiving! I'm here for Rhys. Can I take him with me? I promise it's not a kidnapping!"

"What do you want?" I ask, my tone guarded.

She starts hopping from one foot to the other. "Due to the incident in the cafeteria, the student council decides you have to clean the gym every day after classes for a month. Starting today, by the way."

Nissa jumps up, frowning.

"But he didn't do anything! It's Zander who should be punished, not him!"

"Oh, don't yell in my ear, I'm just doing my job, which is already way too much for me!"

I sigh, tucking my books under my arm. "I suppose you voted against me."

"It's more fun watching you polish the floor than Zander, so my choice was easy."

Caspian turns to me, giving me a worried look.

"Do you want us to join you? I'll bring you some tarts from the cafeteria, with their layer of gelatin and custard ! Just thinking about them makes my mouth water!"

"It's okay, Caspian, you can keep them for yourself."

"Suit yourself."

Annwyn gestures for me to hurry, and we quickly leave sector three towards the gym.

The sun is high in the sky, and the students are peacefully enjoying themselves in the shade. Annwyn makes her way to chase after a butterfly.

She proudly shows me her closed hand, then quickly pulls out a crumpled bag from her skirt pocket. With agility, she slides the insect inside and closes the bag with a swift motion.

"It's for Valen, he likes dissecting butterflies and spiders."

I pretend to ignore her as we continue on the path towards the old station.

"He likes that, I said! Don't call social services!"

" I don't care anyway."

Annwyn relaxes, fidgeting with the bag in her hands.

" It's a cool gift, right?"

I look up at her, watching her skip along the platform.

Can a butterfly be considered a Gift ?

************

The Creed Center is still bustling with people. Even outside tournaments, groups in uniform rush to relax in the stands or train with their class.

Students from elementary school to university can be seen in the center.

This sports complex isn't just for high school students, it also has spa rooms, a communal pool, a tennis court, and even jacuzzis.

With this heat, I doubt the crowd is due to the kickboxing gymnasium.

Annwyn takes her keyring from her vest, which she wears around her neck for fear of losing it. The basement leading to the gym is so well-ventilated that it's almost cool.

"Here."

She hands me one of the keys, pointing the elevator.

"It's the key to the cleaning closet; take whatever you need, and my baby's named "Come back". I fully intend to get it back after that month."

I shrug teasingly, and she smiles, pinching my arm.

" You'll finally be back in your element."

" Is that why you voted against me?"

" Do i really have to answer that ?"

As we step into the elevator, a flash illuminates our faces.

"Annwyn Sunspears, Green. 11th Grade. Paranoid."

"Rhys Yularen, Blue. 11th Grade. Altruist."

The ride is quick, in just a few seconds, the door opens, revealing a stunning view of the stadium.

An enormous cage stands in the center, surrounded by mats in the vibrant colors of the ambitious.

Flags flutter around the scoreboard, and the wide circular stands give the place a grand impression.

I hadn't set foot in the Creed since the end of middle school, when I was assigned to the Blues. Coach assured me that my color had chosen me and that everything would be different now.

Since then, everything has changed, yet I'm not sure I've fully accepted this color, as it deprived me of what I loved the most:

being in the cage.

"Everyone has a place at Willowbrook, Rularen. Yours is here."

Annwyn squeezes my shoulder with a smile before slipping back into the elevator.

The stadium smell makes me blush as I collapse into one of the seats, watching two people exchange punches.

It takes me a few seconds to recognize them.

"Zander! I want you to be strategic in your attacks. When you're in the ring, aim smartly," says his coach, leaning on the cage.

"First, aim for the head, but be precise. Keegan! Use your jabs to open your opponent's guard, then follow up with hooks or uppercuts."

"Remember, headshots can disorient and mentally weaken your opponent."

Zander quickly aims for Keegan's chin, but he narrowly dodges and swiftly punches Zander's ribs. Zander parries smoothly, returning to a defensive stance.

"That's it, Keegan!" the coach continues. "The ribs and body are essential targets. Combine that with straight punches to weaken his high guard and force him to lower his hands."

"Use your techniques, Zander! Be aggressive but smart. Breathe, stay calm, and show your determination!"

I slip in as discreetly as possible, patiently waiting to be alone. But my eyes are like drawn to the center of the room.

The coach whistles the end of the training and wipes his two students' faces with towels.

The sweat on their bodies could easily be mistaken for rain.

That feeling of exhaustion mixed with the thrill of being alive and breathing is what I see on their faces, but I'm not sure I'll ever feel like that again.

After five long minutes, I scan the surroundings, waiting to finally be alone so I can sneak to the door at the back of the stands.

To my surprise, it's already open, and a rush of cool air makes me shiver under my uniform.

It's probably not the storage room Annwyn mentioned, yet she did say it was at the back no ?

Suddenly, the room lights up, and in just a few seconds, I realize I'm in some sort of modern sauna.

I had absolutely no memory of its existence. The chill suddenly seeps through my body, freezing the tips of my fingers.

I quickly turn back to the door to get out as fast as possible, but the handle refuses to move. The clinking of the mechanism only heightens my fear.

It was just open two seconds ago!

"Is anyone there?"

Only a heavy silence responds as the temperature continues to drop drastically.

"Please! Is anyone there?"

I brace myself and throw my weight against the door. But nothing happens.

"Let me out!"

My voice shaking, I hurl myself again, slamming my arms against the steel that doesn't move.

"Zander, is that you? Zander!!"

Tears well up in my eyes as the cries of children take me far away. Screams, darkness, hands pounding on the wall.

"Zander!!" screams the child, crying until almost deafening.

Smoke escapes my mouth with every breath, and I can no longer see anything.

I'm not in the sauna anymore. Now I'm in the attic at home, on my knees, pounding as hard as I can to get out.

"Zander! Zander! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Zander!"

My voice blends with the child's, echoing my own from years ago when the door finally swung open wide.

In my memories, Dad opened it the next day.

Today, it's Keegan who swings it open after what felt like an eternity in those few minutes.

He looks at me with a worried expression as salty water trickles into my mouth.

My whole body shakes, and it's not from the cold. The darkness feels colder than any physical pain.

"My gloves."

His gaze meets mine as I wipe my cheeks with my sleeve, unable to calm my spasms.

His mouth forms muddled words that barely reach my ears. It's only after I take my first gasp of air that I finally understand his words.

"I forgot my gloves."