Paulo's eyes flew open to the ringing of the school bell. It followed with a blinding brilliance and a sharp piercing sting he wasn't ready for, and his instincts kicked in without a second's delay; closing them and wincing in pain as he did so. He had caught the Sun staring back into him through the window of the classroom. The period was over, and by extension, so too was the rest of the school day.

The sting would linger in his memory for a short moment, but the sensation would soon be replaced with something stronger. He slowly began to piece together what had happened — and like that, the sting went straight to his ego.

'Oh, good grief….' He muttered in disbelief.

A genius he was not; he had tried to spend an insurmountable effort to try and focus on the class. Instead, he woke to find himself sprawled over his desk. His arms cradled his head off the surface. He didn't try to lift himself up. Instead, he simply slid his left arm closer, so it shielded his line of sight from the Sun. Doing so, Paulo groaned in defeat; it would've been the second time since school resumed he'd failed himself; it wasn't his intention to fall asleep. He really tried to stay awake this time and focus on his education, but it wasn't going so well.

Those around Paulo whom would claim to know him would find it "out of character" for someone like him to focus on school. But they would be wrong, he would tell you without a moment's hesitation. He had tried, he really did! He could only feel sorry for himself. Give him a moment and he would find the means to rally himself. He'd only really need to try again; this moment would be but a minor setback.

A lapse in judgement at that moment caused Paulo to try to remember why he bothered in the first place. In response, a part of him he always had difficulty coming to terms with subconsciously complied to his request. When it did so, it didn't stray from the truth whatsoever. The sting Paulo felt to his ego moments before would feel sharper as he let his thoughts drift.

He hurt inside when it did. Why did it always need to hurt him so much?

It all went back to the end of the junior school year. Paulo found himself inside the Guidance Councillor's office, to the jeers of his peers when he was beckoned from his class. It wasn't a good sign to start with. He begrudgingly put up with being told there was concern over his grades. He couldn't find the will to protest. He had none. He had his reasons, but he couldn't blame how chaotic his last year was. Something told him they wouldn't hold up in an argument. The talk soon led to the possibility of needing to repeat the year if he could not keep up with his colleagues, the idea of which shook him to his core.

Repeating the year. The idea horrified him. He wouldn't be able to find himself thinking of too much else that day, except for home. He looked forward to going home; his sanctuary. He would be safe there. Nothing could touch him when he was in his sanctuary. But he was wrong. His father was there, waiting. Paulo's school told him over the phone. But there was a problem even his father couldn't find an easy answer to; how could he punish his son? He couldn't ground him; he just couldn't see it doing too much. Paulo's job was helping them make it through the month, so he couldn't tell him to quit. Paulo didn't own too much that he could take off him as punishment, nothing in the way of possessions, and unbeknownst to his father by the end of that school year — friends for that matter either.

They would talk about it, it was the only thing they could both agree on. Paulo couldn't avoid him, he had no choice but to let the blades sink into him from all directions. There was no excuse, he had no excuse to be doing so poorly.

He bore the brunt of it. But the worst thing that was said that evening was his father saying sorry to him for failing him. Paulo never cried harder to himself that evening. He never wanted his father to be so upset with him, it was hard to make him angry in the first place, it's why it hurt him so much inside. . .

. . .And he felt like he deserved this. How couldn't he think like that? He made no effort to prepare for it, preferring to live-in-the-now and only dealing with things as they came (coincidentally, so long as that wasn't school-work). The past had caught up to him. The guy who took everything for granted suddenly had nothing — he was unloved and alone. The "now" as it were, was filled with a few less people that he felt he could turn to in his time of need. The Fellowship—, oh how he used to love to call it that (but not to anyone!), was a lot smaller now than how it used to be. In fact, a better way to describe it was it stopped existing, for the most part. While the gang still remained civil to one another as they passed each other in the school's hallways; sharing what daily concerns and well-wishes to one another, hardly ever did the same group of friends who came to Roseville High sit at the same table during lunch and eaten that year together in good company. Without Mike or Lucy, it just seemed like they had no reason to stick together as tightly as they once did. As the days went on, they all appeared to have sailed in different directions for their own reasons.

And that agitated Paulo deep inside.

Paulo thought back to that moment, back to that moment when the straw finally snapped. He wasn't sure if there was anything he really could have done to stop it coming to pieces in the first place. They'd all been through a lot, he began to suspect the nail in the coffin may have been the moment that Mike had told them he was leaving. A lot of the ties that bound everyone together had fractured soon after. When Mike left, suffice to say, there might not have been much left that made them continue to feel like they belonged.

He couldn't help but feel envy at Mike, but he was always envious; Mike was such a goddamned natural at everything without even realising it. He would underestimate his role in the group when he made the decision to leave; he really was the glue that held them all together. Did he just have to be? It was unfair!

Maybe he could have tried something, had he the motivation to do so — had Lucy not broken his heart.

Outside he managed to keep his feelings in check, but inside his heart tore itself open.

A week after Mike left Paulo would amass the courage to tell Lucy his feelings for her. She would turn him down, something nobody had expected, and broke his heart, and again as she said her goodbyes completely to all of them. Since then, she'd been seeing a different crowd. He never really knew why exactly she decided to stop being friends with them. It just happened one day. He couldn't find the inner strength to ask if he could follow her. He found himself unable to try; he figured he knew her answer anyway. He lost two friends that month, and he felt several more as he started to spiral down into this depressive like state he found himself in.

He made no effort to keep things together. He went against himself, he wouldn't give too much thought into what might have been had he the motivation to fill Mike's role in the group. They all found other friends in time, whether it be in their year or one of the younger classes.

Paulo wouldn't find new friends that year. It wasn't that he couldn't, somewhere deep inside he was pretty sure he could if he tried. But he had found himself…uninterested in everyone, especially after Lucy. He felt more alone now since the events of last year. Worst still, when he thought about needing to repeat his senior year as he stared up to his ceiling from his bed, were it to happen those feeling would undeniably turn into a reality; the people he used to be friends with himself would move on without him. The idea filled him with more dread than before; there would be nothing more embarrassing or more tragic.

He wasn't entirely left to his own devices; the Guidance Councillor had tried to be helpful and gave him a few ideas on how to improve his method of study in the new year, given he could not afford summer "catch up" classes. Of course, the idea of getting into study groups had come up. It was not like he had not done this before, but he would suggest others a few years under him. The idea of this was embarrassing enough as it was, it could get worse; Jasmine's name would come up as a potential study partner, and then that idea immediately became off limits. He'd sooner prefer to die, as awful as that sounded; even towards an ex of his. He just couldn't bear the idea of facing her again.

It was all over between them as far as he was concerned. Them studying together…god he just couldn't do it.

He had other candidates. Despite their estranged relationship, Paulo still had access to Daisy in the absolute worst possible case scenario that ends would refuse to meet. They didn't talk together all that much anymore, but Paulo was sure if given the opportunity Daisy would try to help him. David was in there too, but in both faced a problem — both Daisy and David would take on more work themselves this year; they had their own problems too. They were just…better academically than he was.

He couldn't help but feel sorry for himself thinking about it, he was just so far behind in many ways. He could not help but feel horribly guilty at the thought of asking them to take some time to help him at his level. Worse, what if he grew dependant on them again like he used to? Even worse still, what if he pulled them down with him? Strained relationships were enough, but forcing his friends to be worse off on his account wrought hell on his conscience.

An answer would come to him the night before his senior year started. Paulo was shocked at his brilliance, it was painfully obvious what he had to do; he would just need to learn to do things on his own for a change! After all, he put himself in this situation, he would drag himself out kicking and screaming if he had to. It would be his most selfless endeavour yet, he needn't to bother his friends. He would manage, he would find a way to make up for the past!

…

It didn't work, his conscience tore into him when it occurred; part of him had caught himself in a deliberate attempt to sugar-coat what would otherwise be the truth. He grew angry at himself as well; he just couldn't accept such a fake excuse.

Working on his own was not to prepare himself to succeed this year. Paulo's genius idea was a compromise for the inevitable; failing the class, and being better prepared for the repeat year. The Guidance Councillor had the same thoughts himself; why else would he suggest finding someone to help him from the grade under him and not his own? It made him feel nauseous on the inside, nobody had any faith in him, not even himself.

He wanted to succeed, really, he wanted to!

Paulo's attention went to the sounds of the classroom emptying, before becoming aware of something foreign resting under his right arm; a different surface felt partially wedged between it and the desk. Inquisitively, he rose his head and glanced to the stapled sheets of paper that had been put there. Possibly homework, he wondered to himself, the teacher must have put them there at some point during the lesson, but he must have been completely out.

To his shock, he realised, they didn't even try to wake me.

It hurt, why did it always have to hurt?

His attention remained on the stapled paper, he bought it close to himself and tried reading the words off it, but they weren't making too much sense; of no thanks to a yellowish-blue spot burned into his vision from the sun before. He bought both his hands up to rub his eyes, but couldn't react fast enough as the paper left his desk and found a place on the floor in front of him, and again as it was kicked.

He stopped rubbing his eyes and peered forward from the desk, he wasn't sure if the dirty footprint across it was from just now or had always been there when it was printed. He made no effort to reach down for it, instead preferring to let his head meet the desk again and closing his eyes. He was at rock-bottom. He just couldn't feel motivated from being in school, was there any real point to learning about some of the things they were taught? Did they matter? He wished he could be more like Mike, but he couldn't be him. He couldn't resort to fake his way through either, the idea killed him inside. He didn't want to be like that anymore, he could only try to be himself. He was convinced he couldn't go any higher.

Things need to change, he told himself. He needed to find a reason to care about them. He tried to summon inside of him some kind of motivation to be better…

…But he gave up. He just couldn't. It was impossible; he fell asleep in the class, he had learned absolutely nothing today. He was already deflated at the result of the first five days of his change. It was all just utterly hopeless, wasn't it? He was going to fail, like he always did.

Paulo was only allowed to continue feeling sorry for himself for less than a second before the paper found itself moving yet again. He wasn't ready for what followed; as the paper found itself forcefully jammed itself between his head and his arm. Paulo reacted immediately opening an eye to a furred hand withdrawing from it. The owner of it sighed and turned in the direction to the door of the classroom.

Paulo jerked upright, he recognised the person almost immediately. He called out to her, 'S—Sue!'

If for just for a moment, it was like she was suddenly moving faster away from him. Paulo knew this would happen, so even before he called out he had started to move out from the desk himself. Unfortunately, the chair couldn't move backwards fast enough to match his reaction. Though he managed to be quick enough to grab Sue's hand, he bought the desk with him. The commotion could be heard two rooms away.

Susan wasted no time picking herself up off floor. Rather – She picked herself off Paulo who cushioned her fall. She glanced over her shoulder to find him draped over the overturned desk and the chair he bought with him. The thought of helping him up didn't come across her. It wasn't enough she couldn't stand Paulo, but to be mixed up in a compromising situation would be the end of her. She made for the exit, but a part of her couldn't ignore the wail behind her to get her to stop as she reached it, and to her own objections — she did.

She couldn't believe herself. It would take all the strength in the universe to stop herself from repeatedly slamming her skull against the door-frame. She would think against doing so; it wouldn't suit any purpose other than proving how likely insane she was at the thought of entertaining him. But she begrudgingly gave in to her nature.

'Get up, Paulo.' She said to him from the door.

Paulo felt a ray of sunshine envelop him as he tried to pull himself up from the chaos, he looked up at her from the floor, his eyes widened, and a smile began to protrude from his face. There was but a small glint of hope—.

She scowled back with her arms folded as soon as she saw it. Sue was untrusting of him, for good reason too. A cold "no" left her lips at whatever thought Paulo was holding onto.

Paulo's smile flipped into a frown at the reception. 'Sue, please! You have to help me!' He begged. He made no effort to hide his desperation. His pride would've died from shame if the situation wasn't so dire.

'No, Paulo.' Sue repeated, she threw his name in there for good measure. Gosh! She couldn't remember the last time she felt so…pleased with herself. Was there ever a time before where she could put him in his rightful place? The response she got back was truly pathetic, like as if she just blew out the flame from a candle; the wick had gone dark, and the accompanying smoke trail turned into a stream of tears.

Tears?. . .

Sue watched as Paulo bow his head to the ground and watched as tears began to stream from his face and into the carpet. There was a pain in her chest. It wasn't the first occasion Sue had ever seen him cry, but it would be the second time this year. It was hard to forget the first; she was there when Lucy broke his heart. She couldn't feign her surprise when it happened. Sue was sure Lucy had the same feelings deep down inside her for a time, but then she noticed Lucy beginning to avoid him for a while after she returned to the school. They should have been a tight fit, Paulo made them out to be like it was destiny. She wondered what might have gone wrong.

She tried to hold onto what feeling she felt moments ago when she was putting him down, but now the feeling began to make her feel rotten inside. The two never got along together. She couldn't begin to remember the number of times he infuriated her. She didn't like his childish demeanour. He always made jokes at her expense. Through all the years they shared at the same school she couldn't once remember a single time she ever received a compliment from him. In fact, she was one of the few he never showed a romantic interest in, a hound-cat that he was, but this fact alone would never truly bother her.

He deserved this, she reassured herself. It was Karma-incarnate; you can't always just take things in life for granted, as he did on a constant basis. You sow what you reap.

But again, her nature came into conflict with herself. She wanted to leave and be done with it for good, but her heart sank instead. She couldn't find it in herself to just abandon him, could she? Paulo had managed to fall off the radar entirely. He would have almost completely isolated himself from everyone around him if it wasn't for David trying desperately to keep Paulo's spirits up, and what little time did David have available.

She bit her lip. No, she most certainly could leave him here! She told herself. She went to turn away but found her body refusing, an unknown force kept her planed her there. She couldn't believe herself! First her conscience, now the rest of her body betrayed her?! Could she not just have this cake and eat it too?

She looked back at Paulo. God, what a pathetic sight indeed. She could only subconsciously weigh her options, and sighed when the only appropriate answer elicited a response that made her feel that it was the right thing to do. She rolled her eyes and finally barked orders to the sight drowning itself in its own despair. Damned be the thing that compelled her to do so.

'My place. Tomorrow at 1pm.' She told him. 'We'll catch up on what you slept through.'

Paulo beamed back with life that was as intense as the Sun he had stared into moments ago. His smile forming his trademark grin he was once known for and his tears of despair replaced with tears of joy almost instantaneously. Sue couldn't have felt any more disgusted, at Paulo or even at herself for letting him get to this stage. She wanted to kick him in the teeth so badly for guilting her into such a position, but her urge to leave won out.

'Bring your books and nothing else!' She ordered again. She turned from the door frame, not feeling the force that kept her locked there anymore, but jumped back as she turned into Amaya who watched behind her, who too supported a cheeky grin.

Sue sighed in defeat for a second time. 'One is enough as it is, Amaya.'