"Oh, wow. Look at that."
Drake muttered, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. His cheeks were flushed red as he leaned forward slightly, eyes locked ahead.
At his side, a young man with short brunette hair sat, eyes glued to his phone. He was about Drake's age, eighteen, his body language relaxed but his curiosity piqued the moment Drake spoke.
His eyes drifted from the screen.
"What?"
He asked, but didn't need an answer.
They were seated on a wooden bench, nestled in a sunlit courtyard at the center of a bustling high school.
Break time filled the air with chatter and laughter. The yard was green—grassy patches scattered between walkways and trees—but none of that was why their attention was fixed.
No, it was the group of girls across from them.
They stood in tight clusters, laughing and talking, their school uniforms—short skirts, white shirts, and bright ribbons—doing little to hide their curves or the subtle upskirts of their panties.
Some tugged at their skirts, others twirled their hair, and every one of them looked gorgeous. Their figures were eye-catching, their presence overwhelming.
Even Alex, who tried to maintain his indifferent stare, felt his cheeks tingle faintly.
No matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise, there was no denying it—he was a pervert. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just… hopelessly weak to temptation. And while his heart—and eyes—belonged firmly to the charm of MILFs, he had to admit, schoolgirls could still make his pulse skip a beat now and then.
"Look at them…" Drake muttered under his breath, eyes shamelessly scanning them.
"...Big boobs. Damn…"
The girls were tall, curvy, graceful. And they knew they were being watched, still they had no care in the world.
Drake scooped in a breath and bit his lip, eyes narrowing with wonder.
'God, if I could just have one of them…' he thought, heat rising to his face.
"I'd kill a dude for five minutes in heaven with one of those beauties," Drake muttered, practically drooling.
"...More like an orgy with all of 'em," Alex shot back, triggering a burst of snorting laughter from them both.
After a short pause, Alex spoke.
"Why don't you go on ahead, huh?"
Alex's voice cut through the air, casual but teasing.
Drake blinked, eyes snapping to his friend.
"What do you mean?"
Alex looked ahead, then gave a small shrug.
"They're just a few steps away. I mean, what's the worst in trying, right?"
Drake looked at him for a moment, confused. Then he turned away again, his gaze dropping. His expression shifted—embarrassed, doubtful.
"No. No way. They'd never even look at me twice… I mean, I don't have the looks. Not like you, Alex."
Alex laughed, just a small chuckle.
'This guy…' he thought, already aware of where he stood on the school's social ladder. He was a nerd, plain and simple. The compliment wasn't needed, but it was honest.
Still, watching from this distance was enough. The way their bodies moved, the slight bounce in their chests and ass with each of their steps—it was mesmerizing. Especially that one girl, Martha, The one in the middle. Her shirt stretched across her chest like it had no chance of survival.
Drake sighed. "God… so close yet so far."
After a brief pause, Alex broke the silence.
"You know what…"
He licked his lips, eyes thoughtful.
"We've spent most of our days just sitting here… watching them. I think I'm gonna… I think I'm gonna give it a shot."
Drake's head snapped to him.
"Wait—what?"
Before Drake could stop him, Alex stood up. He slid his phone into his pocket, eyes fixed ahead.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Drake asked, voice rising in alarm.
Alex stopped and turned halfway, a calm expression on his face.
"Mmmm....Trying to live a little."
He turned back, gaze locked on the girls.
"I'm gonna pick a number." he muttered to himself.
Drake jolted up and reached out.
"Alex, no! You're gonna get crushed!"
But Alex didn't respond.
He took a breath, poked out his chest, and began walking. Each step deliberate and prideful.
'I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna do it. No backing out now…'
He crossed the courtyard slowly, stride confident, eyes ahead. Closer and closer, he drew near.
The girls' laughter continued, unaware of the bold soul approaching them—until Martha, turned, sighting Alex from just a few steps away. Blonde hair. Sparkling eyes. Her gaze flicked to him.
Their eyes met.
And Alex gulped, almost regretting making the decision to try his luck.
'Shit. She saw me. But don't stop. Don't stop. Walk straight… You're pretty handsome...you can do this...'
He kept moving.
Five steps… four… three… Then it happened.
His foot missed a step.
It caught on an uneven patch of stone, and his shoe twisted awkwardly beneath him.
"Whoa—!" he yelped, lurching forward as his balance vanished in an instant.
It was as if the world hesitated with him...and before he knew it, he was already falling.
'No, no, no—I'm falling. I'm actually falling. Right in front of them—this can't be happe—'
But his thoughts were cut short as-
CRACK!
His forehead collided with a rock jutting from the earth, hidden beneath a patch of grass. The impact was immediate, brutal.
His body collapsed seconds later, hitting the ground with a dull, sickening thud.
Blood burst from the wound and began sliding down his face, hot and sticky, crawling over his brow and into his eye. The sharp sting of it blinded him on one side, painting the world in uneven streaks of red.
A piercing ring erupted in his ears—a high-pitched screech, like a fire alarm inside his skull. He tried to move, but everything felt heavy. His arms. His chest. Even his eyes, blinking sluggishly, as if underwater.
Above him, the sky spun in lazy circles. The trees danced with it.
'W-Why is everything red…?'
'Why does my body feel like it's sinking…?'
Then came the screaming.
"Alex! Alex!!"
"Somebody call for help!"
"He's bleeding!"
Drake's voice pushed through the chaos, urgent and frantic.
"Alex!! Hey! Hey, stay with me, man! Come on—stay with me!"
But to Alex, it all sounded so far away. The words wobbled and twisted. He blinked again, but even that was a struggle.
'Drake…?'
Faces leaned over him, but they were smeared and blurry, like melting wax. Blood continued its slow descent along his temple, creeping into his ear.
'Why can't I hear them…?'
Then, the light began to drain from everything. Shadows crept in. His vision flickered, dimmed… then collapsed.
'What's...'
And then—
Silence.
Utter, total silence. Not just the absence of noise, but the kind that presses against your eardrums like cotton. There were no voices. No footsteps. Not even the whisper of wind.
The pain disappeared. So did the weight of his limbs. Everything was gone.
There was no light—not even darkness in the usual sense. Just a void, soft and endless. It was as though he had slipped out of existence and into the space between.
He floated, weightless, without direction or purpose. Time no longer mattered. It could've been seconds. It could've been years.
And then—
A voice.
It echoed through the emptiness, powerful and low, like thunder rolling through the bones of the universe.
"Rise, Alex Coleman."
***
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