Almost his

The sky was still gray from last night's rain. Damp air clung to the windows, making everything feel heavier. In the kitchen, Max sniffled as he stirred pancake batter, his soft sneezes echoing in the quiet apartment.

Lucas walked in, towel still hanging around his neck, freshly showered and more alert than usual.

"You okay?" he asked, grabbing a glass of water.

Max nodded between sneezes. "Yeah… I have an allergy to too much moisture in the air. I'll be fine by afternoon."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "That sounds miserable."

Max offered a tired smile. "It's normal for me. Just part of the charm."

As Lucas sat at the dining table, he noticed Max's breakfast—a mug of warm milk and a few pieces of sweets.

"That's all you're eating?" he asked.

Max shrugged. "Yeah. I can't handle heavy food when I feel like this."

Lucas smirked. "You'll make a terrible idol if you faint on stage, you know."

"Then I'll faint stylishly," Max replied with a chuckle.

They ate together, and for a moment, the air was light again.

"You know," Lucas began, "your voice... it's different. You don't just sing, you feel the music. That's rare."

Max blinked, surprised by the compliment. "Thanks… I don't hear that often."

"You will," Lucas said simply. "Just don't lose yourself in the noise."

They left together, Max heading to college and Lucas disappearing into his room to work online.

---

College, however, felt like walking into a storm. Max noticed it the moment he stepped into the classroom—people staring, whispering, nudging one another. He felt like a bug under a microscope.

Jack waved him over with a concerned look, and Mark gave him a small nod. Max sat between them, trying to pretend nothing was happening. He didn't ask, and they didn't mention it.

But by lunchtime, the tension exploded.

Max walked through the cafeteria with a drink in his hand, weaving past tables when a group blocked his path. A few boys surrounded him casually, but it was the girl in the middle who stepped forward like she owned the place.

"Well, well," she said with a mocking smile, "if it isn't the baby face from Broken Chords."

Max stopped, calmly eyeing the group. "Move."

"Not so fast," she said, stepping closer. "What's your deal, huh? One second you're invisible, next second you're singing your heart out and living with rich guys?"

Max's eyes narrowed. "None of your business."

She laughed bitterly. "You think you're special because you look cute and strum a guitar?"

Max tilted his head. "I think you're insecure."

That stung.

One of the boys pushed Max lightly. "You better watch your mouth."

Max stood his ground. "You better watch yours."

A small scuffle began—nothing serious at first. But when someone knocked his drink and a bitter taste entered Max's mouth, he froze, disgusted.

At that moment, the girl took advantage and threw a plate of food at him. It hit him square on the chest.

People gasped. Laughed. Phones came out.

Max stood still, food dripping down his front, face blank.

---

Behind the college building, Max sat on a bench, legs pulled up, his shirt stained. Lucian gently dabbed at his collar with tissues, while Sol tried to clean the mess off his jeans.

"You let them throw food at you?" Mark asked, pacing furiously.

"I didn't let them," Max muttered. "I just didn't want to make it worse."

Tik crossed his arms. "You should've fought back."

"I couldn't," Max whispered. "My throat... it got weird from that thing they threw."

"You okay now?" Jack asked, handing him a bottle of water.

Max nodded faintly, already texting on his phone.

Max: Did you eat lunch yet?

Lucas: Yeah. Are you okay?

Max: Not really.

Lucas: Want me to come?

Max: No. Just... stay.

Jack leaned over, suspicious. "Who are you texting?"

"No one," Max lied, slipping his phone back.

"I don't get it," Jack said. "The livestream was clean. No hate comments, no drama. Why now?"

They all fell silent, thinking.

Then—ding. All their phones buzzed.

New Post Alert – Student Confessions Page

There was a picture. A candid shot of Max laughing with the band members during rehearsal. He looked genuinely happy.

But the caption read:

"Baby Max with his sugar daddies. Looks like talent isn't the only thing he's using to climb up."

Max stared at the screen, his blood boiling.

"Who the hell posted this…" he growled under his breath.

The others looked around, unsure what to say.

Max gritted his teeth, his hands trembling.

This wasn't just gossip anymore.

It was war.

To be continued…