January 20th, 2020. The front gates of Lincoln High School buzzed with life.
Students swarmed the entrance, some bubbling with excitement, others wiping away tears as they clung to their parents. The fresh first-years arrived in waves, dragging suitcases, backpacks, and nervous energy. Among them stood Brandston Reid,tall with brown hair and handsome, arms folded, his dark duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and his sharp gaze fixed ahead.
"You sure you've packed everything, sweetheart?" his mother asked, brushing invisible lint off his jacket.
"Yes, Mom," he replied calmly, voice smooth but distant.
His father gave him a small pat on the back. "Brand, just stay focused. Don't get into trouble. You're here to build your future, remember?"
Brandston gave a small nod. "I know, Dad. I'm not here to play games."
His mom's eyes softened. "And don't forget to call once in a while. Text me. Every day if you can."
Brandston chuckled under his breath, the tiniest smile tugging at his lips. "You'll hear from me. I promise."
With one last hug from both parents, he turned and began walking toward the large school building. The sun cast a soft golden glow on Lincoln High's iconic clock tower as Brandston disappeared inside — the last to enter the grand hall where the first-years were already seated.
The second the tall, sharp-featured boy stepped in, heads turned.
"Who is that…?"
"He's so tall…"
"Is he a model or something?"
"Whoa… he's hot!"
Voices whispered from every corner of the auditorium, but Brandston ignored them all. His expression didn't change, his steps didn't slow. He walked with calm confidence and quietly made his way toward an empty seat at the back.
"Yo, you're late too?" a round-faced guy beside him said with a laugh. "Guess we're both at the back of the pack."
Brandston simply nodded, dropping his bag to the floor.
"I'm Joel, by the way." The guy offered a fist bump. "I talk a lot. Just a heads up."
Brandston stared at the fist bump for a second, then bumped it gently. "Brandston."
Joel grinned. "Dude… you've got every girl looking this way. You realize that, right?"
"I don't care," Brandston replied without skipping a beat, adjusting in his seat like he hadn't just stolen everyone's attention.
Up on stage, the principal finally approached the mic. She was tall, elegant, and firm-eyed — Principal Marissa Clarke — and as her voice rang through the hall, the new year had officially begun.
The school year at Lincoln High was off to a wild start. But for Brandston, it wasn't the stares, the girls, or the noise that mattered. He wasn't here to be admired.
He was here to stay out of the spotlight.
As the room settled, the tall, confident woman at the front of the hall adjusted the mic. Principal Marissa Clarke, known for her firm yet motherly tone, gave a warm smile before speaking.
"Welcome to Lincoln High," she began, her voice clear and calm. "Some of you are excited, others nervous, and maybe a few still wish they were at home watching cartoons. But this… this is your new beginning."
Brandston sat quietly, arms folded. His eyes wandered, catching a few girls still glancing his way and whispering. He sighed. Typical.
Principal Clarke continued, "This school isn't just about grades. It's where you find friendships, face challenges, grow stronger, and maybe… discover a little more about yourself than you expected."
Joel leaned over and whispered, "She kinda talks like a Disney character, huh?"
Brandston didn't reply. His mind wasn't on the speech—it was on surviving high school without unnecessary attention.
Principal Clarke finished, "I wish you all the best. Make memories, stay true to who you are, and don't be afraid to stand out… or to stand up."
The room filled with polite claps. Brandston leaned back in his seat, eyes low, thoughts distant.
"Yeah… standing out's the last thing I want."