Name Has Power

Author's Note:

I'm the biggest hater of this chapter. LOL.

But seriously — this one drained me. It's a turning point in the story, but pulling it off meant I had to step away from Daniel's natural voice, and that... hurt. If you've been following, you know how much I care about keeping him true to himself — calm, introspective, emotionally restrained.

The chapter demanded action. Movement. Strategy. Emotional tension from others. It made sense for the plot, but not for Daniel's inner rhythm. And the early drafts messed with my head so much I had to stop a few times. I couldn't write. I felt like I was losing control of the one character I understood the most.

So if this chapter feels off, I get it. You're not imagining things. I'm owning it — and apologizing for it.

I don't know if this story will ever be "worth it" to anyone else, but to me, it meant something. And that's why I kept going.

Thanks for being here, even if just for a few pages.

– Aeron Blakely

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The past few days had been weird. Leah and I still talked every night, but something had shifted. It wasn't obvious—no big argument or anything—but I could feel it. Her replies were shorter, the kind you read twice just to make sure there's no hidden meaning. Less teasing, more pauses. Like she was trying to act normal but her head was somewhere else.

I told myself it was probably school. Exams. Maybe something with her parents. But even as I said that, I didn't buy it. It was a lie I whispered just to feel better.

That night, I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling like it might give me an answer. The room was too quiet, my thoughts too loud. I picked up my phone—not because I wanted to scroll, but because doing something felt better than doing nothing. I opened Instagram. Mindless swiping. My feed was a blur of faces I didn't care about.

Leah hadn't said anything directly, but Maya might know something. They were close—closer than most. I hesitated for a second, wondering if this was overstepping. Then I sent her a message anyway, starting light. A "hey, what's up." That kind of thing. I eased into it slowly before bringing up Leah.

Maya didn't reply right away. I put my phone down, rolled over, stared at the wall like that'd change anything.

Then the notification buzzed. 

Her message hit harder than I expected. A third-year had proposed to Leah a few days ago. Just reading that twisted something in my gut. I felt it before I could reason through it—jealousy, sharp and stupid. I pushed it down, made a joke in reply. Tried to keep it light, like it didn't bother me.

But what she said next stopped me cold.

Leah had rejected him. Told him she already had a boyfriend.

I froze.

She didn't have to say that. No one forced her to. She could've let it go, laughed it off, brushed him away. But she said that. Said she had me.

For a second, all the noise in my head paused. That meant something. More than I'd realized.

But then Maya kept typing. And the quiet was gone.

She told me it had gotten worse since then. The third-years had started teasing Leah. Not just harmless joke. Whispers in the hallway. Laughs behind her back. And then came the part that made my blood run cold.

They were passing around videos. Those videos. The ones from before I met her.

I hadn't even told Leah about that day. I didn't want her to see me like that. Didn't want her to think of me as someone who lost.

But now… she knew. And worse—she thought the video was spreading because of her.

I stared at the screen, rereading Maya's message over and over like it might say something different the third time.

The whole school knew. Everyone.

There was no way to pretend this didn't matter. No way to laugh it off. A slow, cold rage settled in my chest—not the kind that exploded, but the kind that dug in deep. This wasn't just about some video. Not anymore.

This was about her.

And I wasn't going to let it slide.

I replied to Maya, keeping my tone calm and reassuring. "Oh, so that's what's going on. Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

I locked my phone and set it down on the side table, then leaned back against the pillow. The glow from the screen still lingered in my vision, but it wasn't the light that kept me awake—it was the tight coil of something else. I didn't know what to call it. Anger, maybe. Restlessness, definitely. But more than anything, I felt like I'd been punched in the chest and told to keep walking like nothing happened.

Then came a knock. Soft, hesitant.

"Daniel?" Ethan's voice, muffled through the door. "Dinner's ready. You coming?"

I didn't answer right away. Just stared at the ceiling.

"Yeah," I finally said. My voice sounded hollow, even to me.

The door creaked open, just a little. Ethan stepped halfway in. "You good?"

I sat up slowly. "Just tired," I said.

He didn't look convinced. He walked in fully, shutting the door behind him. "You've been quiet since you got back. Not like usual. What happened?"

I looked at him. He wasn't pushing. But I could see the questions bubbling beneath his expression. Not suspicion—more like concern laced with confusion. He had no idea what I had just found out. No clue about the mess that was spinning in my head now.

I hesitated, then said, "You remember that guy at Springdale? The one who jumped you back then."

Ethan nodded, slowly. "Yeah. Of course. What about him?"

"He's back," I said, voice flat. "And this time it's not me he's after."

For a second, Ethan didn't say anything. His posture stiffened slightly, but I couldn't read his face well in the low light. He looked… off. Not surprised, not exactly angry either. More like something inside him just clicked.

I went on. Told him about the third-year guy who proposed to Leah. How she rejected him. How that the third years turned things into a joke, dragging me into it by leaking those videos. I told him how it spread. How Leah was suffering now, just because of me.

The more I spoke, the more Ethan's expression shifted. His jaw tightened, and he sat down at the edge of the bed, but didn't say anything yet. For a second, I wondered what he was thinking. He looked like someone who had just been told a storm was coming and blamed himself for leaving the window open.

Was it guilt? Maybe. But I didn't want him to go there.

"Don't," I said. "This isn't on you. I stepped in back then because I chose to. You don't owe me anything."

Ethan finally looked at me. His mouth twitched like he wanted to argue, but instead he just nodded. Slowly.

"Still," he said after a long pause, "you don't have to do this alone."

I blinked. That wasn't what I expected.

"You should tell the others," he said. "Message them. Just a quick heads-up. I know they'll be there if you ask."

I paused. Just stared at him for a second.

The idea had been circling in my head, sure, but hearing it out loud made it feel heavier. Like saying it made it real.

"…Alright," I said quietly. "I'll tell them to meet at the bus stop tomorrow. Change of clothes. Something casual. I'll explain it there."

Ethan stood up, brushing his hands together like the idea was already settled. But something about his movements had changed. He wasn't pacing or hesitating like before—he was moving with intention now.

"No," he said, glancing over at me. "Let me do the talking tomorrow. You already have enough on your shoulders."

I tilted my head, studying him. He wasn't trying to take control—he was offering to carry some of the weight.

It surprised me, but it also felt… right. Maybe this was his way of making peace with what happened back then. Or maybe he just didn't want to see me do this alone.

"Alright," I said quietly. "Let's eat first."

He nodded and opened the door. But even as we walked out together, part of me was still spinning.

Things were changing again. And tomorrow, they would really begin.

The next morning, they were already waiting at the bus stop in front of school when I arrived.

No one said a word. Just stood there in their uniforms, bags slung over their shoulders, watching the morning traffic roll by.

They didn't know exactly why they were here.

But they showed up.

Ryan gave me a slight nod. Zack was standing with his arms crossed, half-leaning against the pole, eyes flicking over to me. Julian glanced up, his expression unreadable.

I stopped a few feet from them, words halfway formed in my throat. But they didn't come out.

Then Ethan stepped up next to me. His hand brushed against mine briefly—almost like asking for permission. I didn't say anything, but he knew. He always knew.

So he started talking.

He told them everything—start to finish.

I watched their faces as he laid it all out. No filters. No drama. Just facts, stacked like bricks. Leah. The guy. The rejection. The fallout. The teasing. The videos. Me.

Them.

Ethan didn't embellish anything. And yet, every word felt heavier coming from him than it ever could've from me.

I kept my gaze low, listening to my story being told like it was someone else's. Like I wasn't standing there, holding it all in.

When Ethan finished, the silence held for a moment.

Then Ryan said, "Alright. So what's the move?"

There it was—no hesitation.

Julian gave a short exhale, like he'd been holding his breath this whole time. Zack cracked his neck, already shifting his weight like he was warming up for something.

They didn't ask if it was worth it. Didn't ask if I was sure.

They were already in.

"We'll need to get out of class today," Ethan said. "Say we're at a tournament. Something short notice."

Ryan stepped forward, adjusting his collar. "I'll look into it. Zach, come here."

The two of them walked a few steps off, and Julian followed without needing to be told.

I stayed behind with Ethan.

I hadn't said a word since I got there.

And yet, I couldn't help thinking—how did this happen? How did these people I barely understood, people I never really let in… end up standing with me like this?

It was strange. Not bad. Just unfamiliar.

And maybe that's what made it real.

Once the permissions were handled, we made our way to the locker room behind the gym. No one said much. There wasn't anything to say.

Everyone had brought a change of clothes. We didn't plan to stand out—just needed to feel ready.

I pulled off my uniform shirt and slipped on a dark red and black long-sleeve. It clung slightly at the shoulders, but I didn't care about the fit. I just needed to feel like I wasn't walking into this as a student.

We weren't going in as students today.

The bus stop in front of the school was quiet when we left. By the time we boarded the city bus, that quiet had followed us in.

No one talked. No jokes from Zack, no comments from Ryan. Just the rumble of the engine and the blur of streets outside the window.

It wasn't awkward silence.

It was that kind of stillness right before a match begins—everyone stuck in their heads, running through what might happen.

We reached Springdale High just before lunch break.

The place was alive. Students hung around the courtyard, talking in little groups, shouting across the compound. A few glanced our way as we stepped off the bus, but none of them really paid attention.

We stayed near the gate, keeping our distance. Just watching.

The longer we stood there, the heavier the air got. Not from the heat or the time of day—it was something else. Anticipation. The weight of knowing we weren't just here to confront a few guys—we were stepping straight into something bigger.

Minutes stretched longer than they should have. But we waited.

Then the final bell rang.

Students poured out in waves, their voices rising with relief and energy as the day came to an end.

We moved in slowly.

They didn't notice us at first—just a few more figures in the crowd.

But then something changed.

A chant broke out.

"Aaron! Aaron!"

It started small but spread fast, loud and steady. The name echoed across the compound, climbing over laughter and shouts.

Girls leaned over railings from the upper floors, pointing, laughing. Some had their phones out.

And then I saw her.

Leah, walking with Maya and Jess, trying to keep her head down as the voices chased her through the courtyard.

The chants weren't for Aaron.

They were for her.

The name wasn't being cheered—it was being weaponized. A joke. A way to humiliate her in front of everyone.

It wasn't just a few guys anymore. The whole school was feeding on it.

My stomach twisted, and I could feel my hands curl into fists before I realized they had.

Leah didn't look up.

She didn't have to. You could see it in her shoulders—the way they dropped slightly, how she pushed herself to keep moving.

I hated it. Every second of it.

I hated that she was alone in it.

I hated that we were standing here watching.

My legs itched to move—to shut the whole crowd up in one swing. But I couldn't do that.

Not like this.

This wasn't about impulse. It wasn't just about throwing punches. This was something that needed to be remembered.

I turned to the others. They hadn't said anything, but I didn't need them to. The looks on their faces said it all.

I exhaled slowly.

And then I walked.

Toward her.

The crowd was too busy laughing to notice us cutting through them. Their eyes were on Leah, not on the eight of us moving straight across the compound.

She didn't see us either.

She was locked inside her own world, just trying to disappear and get through it.

My heart was pounding, but I kept walking.

We were here now, and nothing would be the same after today.

When I stopped in front of her, she still didn't look up. She must've thought I was just another person coming to make things worse.

I shifted a step to the side, putting myself between her and the crowd, my back to her, facing the third-years.

I spoke low, just for her to hear.

"After all this, would you still want to be my girlfriend?"

She froze, the words cutting through everything. Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes wide. When she saw it was me—and saw all our friends standing there—something might have shifted in her.

It broke through the tears in her eyes.

She hesitated for a second, then nodded. Her voice shook as she spoke.

"Yeah… I always will."

I smiled a little, still facing the third-years.

"I love you, Leah," I said.

She broke down then, leaning against Maya to hide her tears. But I knew she heard me. And that was all that mattered.

I stepped toward the center of the courtyard.

The atmosphere shifted.

The whispers spread fast, and then everything went quiet.

Every pair of eyes locked on us.

I stayed focused, letting the attention sharpen me instead of breaking me.

ETHAN'S POV

I stood a few steps behind Daniel, my hands clenched into fists. I knew what was coming. We all did.

"Who's Aaron?" Daniel's voice was calm, but it carried enough weight to cut through the lingering murmurs.

The third-years exchanged uneasy glances before one of them stepped forward. Tall, well-groomed, with a controlled presence. His face was neutral, unreadable, but there was no arrogance in his stance.

"I'm Aaron," he said evenly. "But I didn't do anything wrong. I liked her, so I asked her out—nothing more from me."

A weak excuse. One meant to deflect the situation. But Daniel didn't react. He didn't flinch. He just let the silence stretch, let the weight of Aaron's words hang in the air like a challenge.

Then he spoke, voice steady but sharp. "She told you she has a boyfriend, and yet you all thought it was fine to tease her with someone else's name? Don't you guys have any sense of decency? Finding pleasure in tormenting someone just because you think you're better than them?"

His words carried further than just this fight. They cut through the crowd, through the hierarchy these guys thought they controlled.

I could feel the shift happening. It wasn't just about Leah anymore. It wasn't even about Daniel. It was about power. And right now, Daniel was challenging theirs.

Then, that voice came. Mocking. Too familiar.

"If her boyfriend wasn't such a loser, maybe we wouldn't have done it."

I froze.

That voice. That guy.

From the second he stepped forward, it clicked. The arrogance in his walk, the smugness in his smirk—it all came back like a slap to the face.

Brandon.

The only reason for everything that happened.

Back when I was the reason any of it started.

I hadn't seen him since then. Daniel never knew his name, never cared to learn it—but I did.

Because I was there.

And deep down, I always knew… that day haunted Daniel more than he ever let on.

Brandon's voice oozed with mockery.

"But she picked a nobody over the most popular guy in school. What does that say about you?"

The crowd tensed, breath held.

Daniel didn't flinch. Didn't even blink.

"It says more about you than it does about me," he said coolly. "You think popularity gives you the right to treat people like they're beneath you? To hurt someone just because you can? You're wrong. And it ends here."

The silence cracked like thunder.

Brandon's smirk faltered—just for a second.

But then he stepped forward, jaw tight, pride flickering like a lit match.

"You even know where you're standing before you challenge me?"

Daniel didn't answer. He didn't need to.

Something in Brandon's posture shifted. I saw it in his legs, the angle of his shoulders.

He was going to strike.

And for a split second—I hesitated.

I wanted to step in. To stop it.

But maybe… maybe this was something Daniel had to do.

Every instinct screamed at me to move. But I didn't. I couldn't. This wasn't my fight anymore—it was his. And he was ready.

Because just like last time—

He moved first.

A blur—his leg snapped up, a turning kick that cracked against Brandon's head. The sound alone made the crowd jolt.

Brandon stumbled, glassy-eyed, but Daniel didn't stop.

A second later—side kick to the ribs.

Brandon was airborne for a moment before crashing back down, flat, stunned.

Silence.

Then, murmurs. Shock. Awe. Something bigger.

And I just stood there, watching—knowing exactly who that guy was, what this moment meant… and knowing Daniel still didn't.

For a second, the entire courtyard froze.

Then the third-years snapped.

One of them charged forward, fists raised—but Daniel moved first. A hook kick caught the guy's jaw, spinning him to the ground before he even knew what hit him.

Another tried to grab him, but Daniel sidestepped and drove a front kick into his chest. He collapsed, gasping for breath.

I'd seen Daniel fight before. But this… this was different.

His movements were sharper, faster. Every kick flowed seamlessly into the next—a side kick to the ribs, a spinning hook kick to the temple, a pushing kick that sent another guy stumbling back. Each strike was calculated. Each impact, devastating.

One of them got close, swinging wildly. Daniel ducked, his body twisting as his heel came down in a vicious axe kick. The guy crumpled instantly.

The others hesitated now. They weren't backing down, not yet—but I could see it in their eyes. Doubt.

Daniel wasn't fighting like before.

This wasn't the Daniel they had beaten in the past.

This was someone far stronger.

But I also saw something else—something that worried me.

He wasn't just fighting to win.

He was destroying them.

Every strike, every kick, carried a level of power that went beyond just teaching them a lesson. He wasn't holding back.

And I wasn't sure if he would stop.

The last guy standing took a step forward. His face was bruised, his movements shaky, but his pride wouldn't let him walk away. He raised his fists, his breath ragged.

Daniel met his gaze, unflinching.

Then, he finished it.

A spinning back kick—brutal, precise—slammed into the guy's chest. He hit the ground hard. And stayed down.

Silence.

Nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and the scattered groans of the fallen third-years.

Just when we thought it was over, a new presence entered the courtyard.

At first, it was just footsteps—calm, unhurried. But the second he stepped into view, everything changed.

He wasn't like the third-years scattered on the ground. He was something else.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and built like a fighter, but it wasn't just his physique that made him stand out. It was the way he carried himself—controlled, unfazed, like he already knew the outcome before anyone had even moved.

Who the hell was this guy? I hadn't seen him before. Was he even a student?

Something about him set off alarms in my head. And I could tell from the way the third-years stiffened that they knew exactly who he was—and they weren't happy about it.

And then there was his hair.

Long, jet-black, with a few front strands dyed a deep, gold.

It should've looked ridiculous. Instead, it looked like a warning. Like he wanted you to see him coming—and by the time you did, it was already too late.

Combined with his sharp, unreadable expression, he looked more like a predator that had just walked into a den full of prey.

That's when it hit me—

This guy wasn't here to pick a side. He was the storm.

The third-years, the ones who had been fighting seconds ago, suddenly looked like they didn't belong in the same ring.

They knew him. And they knew better than to speak first.

He let the silence stretch before finally speaking. His voice was smooth, almost casual, but it cut through the air like a blade.

"Enough."

His gaze swept over the scene—first at the third-years on the ground, then at us. He didn't look impressed. More like he had already expected this outcome.

I swallowed, feeling a weight settle on my chest. Whoever he was, this wasn't his first time watching people fall apart.

Then his eyes settled on Daniel.

"We had business here," he said, his voice steady. "And you guys just ruined it."

That's when I noticed the guys behind him.

They weren't wearing uniforms—just street clothes that told me one thing.

They weren't from Springdale.

But the way they stood—balanced, alert?

These weren't just random punks.

They looked like the kind of people who didn't show up to talk.

They showed up to finish.

And from the way they locked onto Daniel, it was clear—

They thought he was just another kid in their way.

The tall guy didn't posture. Didn't even blink.

He just stood there, sizing Daniel up like he was solving a puzzle.

Most people would've hesitated.

Daniel didn't.

In a blur, he launched a side kick straight at the guy's chest—

Fast, clean, brutal.

For a second, I thought that's it—but the guy caught Daniel's leg one-handed, barely even moving.

My stomach dropped.

This wasn't good.

But Daniel didn't panic.

He twisted midair—almost effortlessly—whipping his free leg around in a sharp arc that smashed into the guy's ear.

The crack echoed across the courtyard.

The tall guy stumbled back, his hand snapping up to his ear, his eyes wide for half a breath.

He felt that one.

And me?

I stood there, frozen for half a second, because—

I'd never actually seen Daniel like this before.

The last time he fought... it wasn't even a fight.

It was rage. Raw and wild.

Something none of us talked about afterward.

But this—

This was different.

This was cold. Calculated.

Real.

For the first time, I realized we had no idea how good Daniel actually was.

He wasn't just strong—

He was something else.

Who even is this guy...?

The thought hit me harder than the fight itself.

But there wasn't time to stand around being impressed.

The other guys were already moving in—

I saw the shift in their stances, the tightening of their jaws.

They were about to swarm him.

And that's when we charged in, too.

Our footsteps pounded the concrete.

Logan, Ryan, and the others closed the gap fast, moving like we'd done this a hundred times.

I stepped up beside Daniel, cracking my knuckles.

"Sorry for stepping in," I said, throwing him a quick grin.

"But it was getting desperate just watching from the sidelines. We didn't come here to let you steal the whole show."

Daniel just gave the smallest tilt of his head.

Almost like he expected us all along.

And then everything exploded.

Fists flew. 

Bodies slammed against the ground.

The courtyard turned into chaos.

I ducked under a wild swing, drove my elbow into a guy's ribs, pivoted, and cracked my knee into his face.

Another one lunged from the side—I caught his arm, twisted, slammed him down.

Logan was throwing kicks like a maniac, Ryan was bulldozing through two at once—

And Daniel?

Daniel was on another level.

Every move was sharp, efficient—no wasted energy.

A front kick sent one guy reeling.

A spinning back kick took another clean off his feet.

It wasn't rage this time.

It was control.

Like Daniel had finally stepped into something he'd been holding back for way too long.

But the tall guy—

He didn't move.

He just stood there, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

When our gazes met, it wasn't anger I saw.

It was cold calculation.

He was studying us.

Every move.

Every weakness.

And then, just as fast as it started, it was over.

Their side was losing, fast.

Momentum gone, confidence draining.

The tall guy whistled, sharp and loud.

"That's enough!"

His men froze.

Then backed off.

The tall guy locked eyes with Daniel one last time.

His voice was calm, but there was steel underneath it.

"We're done here. Let's go."

But before he left, he paused.

Turned back.

And smirked.

Slung an arm around two of his guys—the ones Daniel had wrecked the worst—and muttered, just loud enough for his own crew to hear.

But I caught it anyway.

"This was just a handshake," he said, voice casual, almost like he was sharing an inside joke.

"Wait till you meet the ones who built the city."

My heart thudded harder.

It didn't sound like a threat.

It didn't need to.

I didn't know exactly what he meant—

But I knew one thing.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

Leaving the promise of round two burning in the air around us.

I exhaled, the tension still buzzing in my veins. The fight might've been finished, but something told me this was just the start of something bigger.

The crowd was still there, silent. Watching. Processing what just happened.

Leah and her friends pushed through. "Are you guys okay?" she asked, scanning us.

We nodded. A few bruises, nothing serious.

Daniel stepped forward, his voice steady.

Daniel exhaled, his grip relaxing as the tension in his shoulders eased. His gaze drifted over the crowd—not with arrogance or victory, but something quieter. He wasn't here to prove he was stronger. He wasn't here to put on a show.

His eyes lingered on the ones who had watched from the sidelines, those who had done nothing while Leah was caught in the middle of this. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. They understood now.

Without another glance, he turned and walked.

Leah moved closer, her hand brushing Daniel's arm. "Thank you," she said softly. Her friends echoed her, their expressions softer now.

Daniel just nodded. No more words.

We didn't need to say anything else.

Because after today, everyone knew.

We weren't just some group of guys.

We were a force.

And nobody—not even the outsiders—would forget that.

DANIEL POV

 As the dust settled and the adrenaline slowly drained from my system, I could feel Leah's warmth beside me. She hadn't let go since the fight ended, and I wasn't in any hurry to pull away either. Her presence was the one thing that kept me grounded through all the chaos.

"Are you really okay?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern.

I nodded, meeting her gaze. "I'm fine. More worried about you. I'm sorry you had to see all that."

She shook her head, her grip on my arm tightening slightly. "I'm just glad you're okay… and that it's over."

Her eyes shimmered—not with fear, but with something deeper. Gratitude. Maybe even guilt. Like she wanted to say more, but didn't know how.

Leaning in closer, I brushed my lips against her forehead. "You know I'll always keep you safe."

She smiled up at me, her expression softening. "I know."

Maya and Jess, who had been standing nearby, approached us with cautious smiles. "You guys are seriously something else," Maya said, glancing at the group of guys who were now recovering from the fight. "But we should probably get going before someone decides to start round two."

Leah finally released her hold on me, but not before giving my hand one last squeeze. "Yeah, we'll catch up later," she said, looking up at me with that familiar warmth in her eyes. "Take care, Daniel."

"You too, Leah," I replied, watching as she and her friends turned to leave.

Once they were out of sight, I turned to the guys. The high of the fight was wearing off, and now all that was left was a mixture of exhaustion and pride. We'd just proven we weren't to be messed with, and that felt damn good.

But even as the pride settled in, something didn't sit right.

The way that golden-haired guy looked at us—like he'd barely warmed up—kept replaying in my head.

This wasn't over. This wasn't the fight.

This was the first move.

"Alright, let's get out of here," I said, motioning for everyone to start walking. The bus stop wasn't far, and we could all use the ride home to decompress.

As we walked, the conversation naturally shifted to what had just gone down.

"Man, we really took them down," Logan said, a grin spreading across his face. "They didn't know what hit them."

"Yeah, but it's not like we can just keep getting into random fights," Ethan added, his tone more thoughtful. "We need to figure out what we're doing."

"We've got the strength and the numbers," Julian chimed in. "Maybe it's time we make it official—like an actual crew."

The idea wasn't new, but it had never felt more real than it did now. After what we'd just gone through, it made sense. We weren't just a bunch of guys who had each other's backs—we were starting to become something more.

"Okay, but what do we call ourselves?" Zach asked, looking around at the group. "We need something that fits."

Suggestions started flying around as we walked. Some were ridiculous, others weren't half bad, but nothing seemed to stick.

"Crestwood Defenders?" Logan suggested, but it was quickly shot down by everyone.

"Nah, too cheesy," Ryan said, shaking his head. "We need something that actually means something."

We kept tossing ideas around until Ryan suddenly stopped in his tracks, turning to face us with a serious expression. "How about… 'Vanguards'?"

There was a brief pause as the word sank in. It had a ring to it—something that felt right. It wasn't about being heroes or trying to prove anything. It was about standing together, moving forward, and not letting anyone push us down.

"Vanguards," I repeated, nodding slowly. Yeah, that felt right. "I like it."

The others agreed, one by one, until it was unanimous. As we reached the bus stop, the decision was made. We were the Vanguards now, and this was just the beginning.

As we waited for the bus, I glanced back in the direction Leah had gone, feeling a sense of resolve settle over me. I'd protect her, just like I'd protect my friends. And with the guys by my side, I knew we could take on anything that came our way.

As we boarded the bus, the energy in the air had shifted. We weren't just a group of friends anymore; we were something more, something united. The name "Vanguards" had sealed that bond, and as we took our seats, I could sense the excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

Ethan and I settled in, and I found myself glancing over at Owen, Zach, and Adrian, who were chatting a few seats away. A thought had been forming in the back of my mind, and now seemed like the perfect time to bring it up.

"Hey, guys," I called out, catching their attention. Owen looked up first, his curious expression mirrored by Zach and Adrian. "You three are still staying in the same place, right?"

Owen nodded. "Yeah, we found a decent spot not too far from school. It works for now."

I exchanged a glance with Ethan, who gave me a subtle nod, encouraging me to go on. "What if... we all stayed together? Like, find a place that could fit all of us?" I suggested, my tone half-serious, half-hopeful.

Zach raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "You mean, like one big house? All five of us?"

"Yeah," Ethan chimed in, leaning forward with interest. "It could be easier to manage things that way. Plus, it'd be pretty cool to have everyone under the same roof."

Adrian seemed to mull it over for a moment before giving a shrug. "I don't see why not. Could be fun."

Just then, Ryan, who was sitting across the aisle, leaned over with a mock-serious expression. "So, what does that mean for me? Should I crash with Ethan, or is Adrian offering a spot?"

We all laughed, the tension of the day easing away. "Guess we'll have to find a place big enough to fit five," I said, grinning as I leaned back in my seat. "Let's start looking tomorrow. I'm sure we can find something close by."

Logan, who had been quietly listening, chimed in with a smirk. "Just make sure there's a room for all of us when we come over to hang out."

I chuckled, nodding in agreement. The idea of us all living together, watching each other's backs, and growing even closer, felt right.

As the bus rolled on through the city streets, the laughter slowly faded into a warm silence. The chaos from earlier still echoed somewhere in the back of my mind… but it didn't feel so heavy now.

We weren't just a group.

We were becoming a unit.

And if this city really had more coming for us—if that smirk meant what I think it did—then we were gonna need that unity more than ever.

The Vanguards had taken their first hit.

And now, we were standing.