"Well," Kunal said casually, eyes flicking from Nikhil to Dev before settling on Felix, "look who's walking together."
Felix's expression didn't change.
The corridor felt narrower than it had a minute ago.
He stood still, shoulders relaxed, eyes steady, as Kunal blocked their path with practiced ease. Sam and John flanked him, just close enough to make it clear this wasn't a coincidence.
Kunal smiled, slow and confident.
"Relax," he said casually. "No need to look so tense. We're just talking."
Nikhil shifted beside Felix. "Funny way to start a conversation."
Kunal ignored him, his gaze fixed on Felix instead. "You know who I am, right?"
Nikhil interrupted before Felix could speak, "What, you forgot about yourself, Kunal?"
"Stay out of this, Nikhil, or…" Kunal warns him.
"Or What?"
Kunal ignores Nikhil and faces Felix again.
He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice—not threatening, not loud. Almost polite.
"Congrats, Vedman, for being selected for the interschool badminton competition."
Felix didn't react. "Thank you."
Kunal chuckled. "Well, it's just that I also want to play in this competition."
Sam snorted quietly.
Kunal continued, "Here's the thing. If the spot belongs to you, then I will not get the chance."
Nikhil scoffed. "That's not how selections—"
Dev stops him without looking away from Kunal and Felix. Nikhil stopped talking.
"Let him handle this," Dev said calmly.
Felix tilted his head slightly. "Go on."
Kunal's smile thinned. "Drop out. Quietly. No drama."
Felix studied him for a moment. "And if I don't?"
Kunal sighed, as if disappointed. "Then accidents happen. Missed matches. Unfortunate disqualifications."
He paused deliberately.
"You won't even get a chance to play."
Nikhil clenched his jaw. "You can't do that."
Kunal finally looked at Nikhil, amused. "You should know better what people can do when their father knows the right people."
That was the truth of it.
Kunal's father is an influencer person.
Kunal wasn't loud about his influence. He didn't flaunt it. He didn't need to. Teachers rarely questioned him. Complaints faded before they reached the right desks. Things were handled quietly.
Felix knew the type.
Kunal shifted his weight and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a folded bundle of notes and held it loosely.
"Or," he said, "we can make this simple."
Felix's eyes flicked to the money—and then back to Kunal's face.
"No," Felix said calmly.
Kunal blinked. "Think carefully."
Felix shook his head. "Still no."
Kunal's expression hardened just a fraction.
"You're making this difficult for yourself."
Felix's voice stayed even. "I'm not interested in buying or selling my chances."
For a moment, silence hung between them.
Then Sam stepped forward, blocking the corridor fully. John mirrored him on the other side.
"Let's go," Felix said quietly to Nikhil and Dev.
Sam didn't move.
"That wasn't a suggestion," Kunal said.
Felix took one step forward anyway.
That was enough.
Sam shoved him.
Felix stumbled back half a step but stayed upright. He didn't swing. Didn't react wildly. Just reset his stance.
Nikhil moved instantly.
Before Sam could react, Nikhil's fist connected cleanly with his jaw. Sam went down hard, crashing into the lockers.
John rushed Dev.
Dev wasn't strong—not like Nikhil. He blocked clumsily, took a hit to the shoulder, and staggered.
Nikhil turned, grabbed John by the collar, and slammed him against the wall. One sharp punch to the ribs dropped him.
Kunal stepped forward.
Felix met him halfway.
They locked arms, force against force. Felix wasn't overpowering, but he was controlled. He shifted his weight, using balance instead of strength, forcing Kunal back a step.
Kunal snarled. "You think you're clever?"
Felix didn't answer. He absorbed a punch to the shoulder, gritted his teeth, and countered with a shove that sent Kunal into a bench.
They stared at each other—breathing hard, neither backing down.
Kunal was stronger.
Felix knew that.
But he also knew when not to escalate.
"Enough."
The voice cut through the tension like a blade.
A broad shadow fell across the corridor.
David Brown stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Tall. Muscular. The school's sports teacher.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked flatly.
No one answered.
David scanned the scene—the fallen students, the bruises forming, the crowd beginning to gather.
"Faculty building. Now," he said. "All of you."
No shouting. No threats.
Just authority.
David didn't ask for explanations.
That was his way.
He stood near the window, arms crossed, listening to fragments—half-answers, overlapping excuses—before raising a hand.
"Enough," he said. "I don't care who started it."
Felix frowned slightly.
David continued, "You're all athletes or pretending to be one. That means discipline."
His eyes landed on Felix. "If something like this happens again, you're out of competitions. No exceptions."
Felix nodded. "Understood, sir."
David turned to Kunal. "And you—the same applies."
Kunal opened his mouth, then closed it. "Yes, sir."
David looked between them. "Take your pride elsewhere. I care about results, not egos."
He paused, then added, almost casually, "Practice for the interschool competition starts tomorrow. Be on campus by 6:30 a.m. sharp. Felix Vedman."
Felix nodded again.
"Yes, sir," he said.
David waved them away. "Get out."
Both groups stepped out of the faculty building and moves into different directions.
For a few seconds, none of them spoke.
Dev broke the silence first. He exhaled slowly and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well," he said, forcing a half-smile, "that escalated quickly."
Nikhil snorted. "Well, there was a thrill in it at least; I enjoyed it."
"I did not," Dev replied. "My ribs strongly disagree."
Felix glanced at him. "You alright?"
Dev nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine." He paused, then added more seriously, "You stayed calm back there."
Felix shrugged. "Losing control only makes things easier for people like Kunal."
Dev studied him for a moment, then nodded. "You've changed."
Felix didn't deny it.
. . . . .
RING RING
The final bell rang in late afternoon.
Students poured out, buzzing with rumors and adrenaline.
They walked a little farther before Dev slowed down. His house was in the opposite direction from Felix and Nikhil's route.
"Hey," Felix said, stopping him.
Dev turned. "Yeah?"
Felix hesitated for just a second. "About something else. I need a favor."
Dev raised an eyebrow. "That sounds dangerous already."
Felix ignored the comment. "I want you to check within your circle—any official esports tournaments. Proper ones. Not shady online stuff."
That surprised Dev.
"You? Asking about gaming?" Dev said. "I thought you didn't care about any of that."
"I didn't," Felix replied. "But Alex does. And he's good. I don't want him going down the wrong path just because he doesn't know better options exist."
Dev was quiet for a moment.
Then he nodded. "Alright. I'll look into it. Regional, national, anything legit."
Felix added, "And… come over this weekend. We'll talk properly."
Dev smiled faintly. "You're serious about this."
"Yes."
Dev adjusted his bag. "Then I'm in."
They exchanged a quick nod. Dev turned and headed off, waving once without looking back.
Nikhil watched him go. "You're full of surprises these days."
Felix exhaled. "Someone has to be."
Nikhil grinned and pointed at the bike. "Speaking of surprises—your royal chariot awaits."
Felix smirked as he took the helmet. "Try not to show off."
"No promises."
The engine roared to life.
As they pulled onto the road, the city rushing past them, Felix leaned back slightly, letting the wind touch his face.
They sped off down the road, the school shrinking behind them.