The Struggle Continues

Troy trudged through the front door of his house, the weight of the day still hanging over him like a storm cloud. He didn't want to show it, but everything felt heavy. He dropped his bag by the door and walked toward the kitchen, where his mother was making dinner.

"Hey, Mom," Troy said, forcing a smile on his face as he leaned against the counter.

"How was school today, honey?" his mother asked, not looking up from the pot she was stirring.

"Same old," Troy replied nonchalantly, trying to mask the frustration that lingered in his chest. He wasn't about to burden her with the truth. "You know, classes, homework… nothing special."

His mother hummed, clearly pleased by his response. She knew school was tough for him, but Troy always tried to make it seem like everything was fine.

"That's good to hear," she said, setting the spoon down and turning to face him with a smile. "I'm glad you're handling things well. Have you thought about what you want to do this weekend?"

Troy paused for a moment, forcing his thoughts away from the bullying. "I don't know. Maybe train a bit more. Keep working on the bubbles."

She smiled warmly. "That sounds like a great plan. I know how important it is to you. Just don't forget to rest when you need to."

He nodded, though he didn't think rest was in the cards tonight. There was too much on his mind. He needed to get better, faster—stronger.

Later that night, after dinner, Troy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He could still hear the taunts from earlier echoing in his head. It wasn't enough to make him quit, but the sting was still fresh. He closed his eyes, trying to drift off, but sleep eluded him. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring.

The next day, Troy walked into school with the same routine. He put on his mask of calm, even though inside, he could feel the storm brewing. As he passed the hallways, the whispers started. He ignored them as best as he could, focusing on the locker in front of him. But before he could turn the corner, a familiar shove sent him stumbling into the lockers.

"Nice job, loser," a voice sneered from behind him.

Troy didn't turn around. He couldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. He kept his head down and walked to class, doing his best to block out the noise.

As he took his seat in the classroom, his eyes caught sight of her—Kasey. She was standing near the window, talking with a group of friends. With her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and piercing blue eyes, she was a vision of grace. Popular. Unbothered. Her reputation as an S-Class student preceded her. She could control sound on a world level. She was untouchable.

Troy couldn't help but stare. He had admired her from afar for as long as he could remember. She was everything he wasn't—confident, talented, and the center of attention wherever she went. He wondered what it would be like to just talk to her.

But as quickly as the thought formed, the bullying returned. Someone shoved him from behind, knocking his books onto the floor. Laughter filled the air, but Troy just gritted his teeth and bent down to pick them up. He didn't want to make a scene, not here. Not in front of Kasey.

After the bell rang, Troy rushed out of class, eager to get away from the torment. He didn't look back, not even at Kasey, who was still surrounded by her friends. He couldn't afford to get lost in a fantasy. The reality of his situation was enough to weigh him down.

When he got home, his mother greeted him with a warm smile, but Troy wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He forced a grin, giving her a quick hug before heading toward the backyard.

"How was school today, honey?" she asked, standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Same as usual," Troy mumbled, though the words felt hollow as they left his mouth. "I'm going to work on my training now."

He walked to the backyard and set up his training space. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—of the teasing, of his own limitations. But he wasn't giving up. He couldn't. He knew he needed to be stronger, to prove to himself that he could do more than just survive.

He took a deep breath and focused. His power—the ability to create bubbles—wasn't much, not compared to others like Kasey. But it was his. And he was determined to make it work. He stretched his hands out, willing the air to shift, and a small bubble appeared in front of him. It wobbled in the air before popping.

Troy clenched his fists. That wasn't good enough. He pushed harder, trying to form a larger bubble. It took effort, his palms sweaty from the concentration. Slowly, another bubble began to take shape—bigger this time—but still not what he needed. He didn't stop, though. He couldn't.

From the kitchen window, his mother watched him, her eyes filled with pride. She knew how hard her son worked, how much he wanted to improve. It wasn't easy for him—his power, his struggles at school—but she could see the determination in his eyes. He was never one to give up, even when everything seemed stacked against him.

Troy continued to train as the sun set, his mind focused solely on his goal. He wasn't sure when he would reach the next level, but he would keep pushing. He couldn't afford to let the world around him decide his future.