Oliver: Different than Usual

"You know, Olive," JaNyx said, his eyes glued on the screen of his handheld gaming console. "You should learn to give that Goodd kid some slack."

"No," Was Oliver's terse reply as he opened the bottlecap of his mineral water, taking a huge gulp to the point that a trail of water trickled down his chin.

He glanced at the girls who were also in the Huxley garden, eyeing him hungrily as they ate their lunch. Hell, yeah! He must've looked hot right now--

"No, you look like an idiot." Janxy interrupted as if reading his thoughts. "You look like a POS who doesn't know how to drink from a bottle properly."

"POS?"

"Piece of sh*t."

Oliver scowled, capping the water bottle before taking a bite out of the sausage bun he bought from the school cafeteria. "Sometimes I wonder if you hate me, Nyx." 

JaNyx finally removed his gaze from his gaming console and finally looked at Oliver.

"Yes," He grinned. "Yes, I do."

"I hate you, too, chronically online nerd!" Oliver said as he chewed on his food, sending pieces of meat flying everywhere.

"'I hate you, too, chronically online nerd!'" JaNyx repeated mockingly. "Yeah, yeah! I don't care. Also," He added. "It's JaNyx."

"Ah," Oliver rolled his eyes; he exclaimed as if he was humoring 'JaNyx' but didn't necessarily agree with him. "Your IGN, whatever that means."

"In-game name!" JaNyx completed the acronym. "You should really learn your internet acronyms, Oliver. You're worse than a f*cking boomer!"

"Boomer?" 

"How do you not--" He stopped, shaking his head in defeat. "This is a wasted effort. This isn't even about you not having no knowledge about internet vocabulary; this is you being an actual idiot." JaNyx paused. 

"What...?" 

"You are an actual idiot," He deadpanned, not even mincing his words as he emphasized the word 'are.' "If you aren't, you wouldn't have paid the school admin just so you can pass your English subject--"

Oliver covered JaNyx's mouth with his hand, looking around them to see if anyone heard what his friend said.

"Shhhhh!" Oliver hushed him. "Someone might hear you!"

JaNyx pushed him off, scoffing. "You're literally an American! How could you fail your English class!"

"Hey, I was born and raised in New Zealand until I was 3!"

"They speak English in New Zealand, dumba**!" 

JaNyx tutted, setting down his console on the garden bench.

"Anyway," He said, changing the topic and just accepting the fact that his friend was a typical brainless jock. "I introduced myself to everyone as JaNyx on the first day of class, yet people still calm me 'Nyx'! AGAIN!"

"Maybe because it's normal to call people by their real name instead of the name you use in video games." It was Oliver's turn to jab at him. "You know, you're just proving my point that you're a chronically online nerd. And a piece of advice, man-to-man, girls don't like nerds."

"I don't like 3D girls anyway." JaNyx shrugged. "2D girls are better."

"Oh, I know what internet slang you are. You're an incel."

"Wha--" He scoffed incredulously, surprised that the basketball jock even knew that derogatory internet word. "Well, okay, I am one. But I'd rather be an incel than a self-proclaimed Alpha male like you!"

"Alpha male...?" Oliver frowned again at JaNyx's confusing slang. "Isn't like... what they call boss wolves or whatever?"

"I'm surprised you're aware of your lycan terms."

"Lycan...?"

"Never mind that," JaNyx waved his hand dismissively. "Let's go back to Goodd."

Upon hearing the name, Oliver narrowed his eyes in disgust. JaNyx raised an eyebrow in response, his lips forming a straight line.

"What has the kid ever done to you?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"First of all," Oliver started. "He's annoying, a walking eyesore in Huxley. Just the mere sight of him makes me want to vomit."

"Because?" JaNyx pressed.

"What do you mean 'because'?" He scoffed.

"Don't sound as if I'm the one being unreasonable! Why do you think he's annoying and an eyesore?"

"Do I need a reason?"

Before his best friend could insist that you do, in fact, need a reason to brand someone as annoying, Oliver continued. 

"Third,"

"You mean second?" JaNyx corrected.

"Second," Oliver cleared his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment. "He has a stupida** name."

JaNyx waited for him to continue, but Oliver didn't.

"That's it?" JaNyx narrowed his eyes. 

"That's it." Oliver nodded.

JaNyx burst out laughing, grabbing his stomach for dear life. "Not only did you just give two reasons for bullying someone, those two reasons are stupid and childish AF!"

"I'm not bullying him." He argued.

"What?" JaNyx asked in a challenging tone. "You're just 'teasing' him? We're not in kindergarten anymore, Oliver. One day, you'll get your a** handed back to you in one way or another."

Oliver's face twisted into a deep scowl, and his hands began shaking and balling into a fist upon hearing his friend's words. JaNyx glanced at the jock's fist, tensing up at the possible consequence of his defiance.

Even though they had known each other since they were kids, it seemed like Nyx had forgotten his place in the social hierarchy of Huxley. Nyx had been too comfortable with his snarkiness that he forgot who Oliver was and what Oliver did for him. If it weren't for Oliver, Nyx would've been the spare punching bag at school aside from Gooddie. 

But he wasn't, was he? Because he was under Oliver Twyne, the king of Huxley.

And we all knew what happened to those who rebelled against kings.

Oliver raised his fist, ready to beat the living sh*t out of JaNyx, when he noticed another nerd enter his peripheral view. He lowered his hand, his scowl turning into a smirk as he realized who it was.

JaNyx let out a sigh of relief as Oliver found another target to beat up, slumping his back behind the chair. Oliver raised his chin, looking at him arrogantly. 

"You should be thankful to Gooddie Gooddie for saving your a** today, 'JaNyx." Oliver sneered at the IGN. 

"I truly am," JaNyx gulped before standing up from the bench they were sitting on. "I think I left my water flask inside the classroom. BRB."

Oliver didn't say anything as Nyx excused himself and scurried away to god knew where. He turned his heels against the grass and headed toward Alexander Goodd, who was innocently eating alone under the shade.

Too bad he was going to ruin that. 

"Hey, Twyne," Maverick Amada, one of his basketball teammates and lackey, called out to him. He seemed to be enjoying his meal in the Huxley garden when he saw Oliver walking towards his favorite prey. "I see you're planning to have some fun."

Like some bad weed, a few more of his teammates and fellow bullies appeared out of nowhere with menacing looks on their faces.

Oliver gave his henchmen an acknowledging nod, and they followed him as he walked toward Goodd. 

Goodd must've heard Maverick calling Oliver since he immediately stood up from the spot where he was previously sitting and began to run away without further ado. 

"Go after him!" Oliver ordered, and like some villains in a cartoon, they all ran after Goodd while laughing hysterically. 

Goodd was small like a rodent, and like a rodent, he was fast at running away. But the Huxley's basketball team wasn't named Cheetah Dunkers for nothing. Their athletic training wasn't all for nothing.

What would Coach Ruff say if they didn't catch a wimpy Gooddie Gooddie?

Although it was different than usual, today was just another normal day.

***

They managed to corner Goodd at the well of the empty lot in the Huxley grounds.

This lot was supposed to be another garden or whatever, but the construction was stopped when a student fell inside the garden well that was supposed to be the main attraction.

The well wasn't even that deep! Yet the body of the student was never found.

And Oliver was going to make sure that Goodd was next.

"Please stop," Goodd cried; his pathetic face was dripping with a combination of tears and mucus. He fell to his knees, lowering his head as he cried helplessly.

Oliver tutted, watching the shameless display of patheticness in complete disgust.

"Crying like a little b*tch, Goodd?" He raised his foot and stepped on the back of Goodd's lowered head. "Do you not have any dignity inside of you?"

Goodd continued sobbing loudly, his whimpers echoing in the empty lot like some sort of background from a horror movie.

"What have I ever done to you to deserve this?" He whispered so softly, that Oliver barely heard it.

Oliver removed his foot from the kid's head before humming as if contemplating it, even though they all knew the reason from the get-go. 

"Let's see," Oliver spoke. "Maybe you deserve this for simply being alive?"

Goodd raised his head, gazing at Oliver's blue eyes with defiant eyes. He didn't say anything because he knew that if he did, it would only aggravate his bullies. And even if he did say something, nothing would change.

Even though Goodd was silent, his eyes themselves were enough to send a message to Oliver. It irked him that this little bastard still had the will to act like he had the tiniest speck of disobedience.

Twyne tilted his head at his teammates, and they moved on their own accord without being verbally instructed. The bullies grabbed Goodd by the limbs, forcing him to stand up.

"What are you doing?!" Goodd shrieked, tussling against them, but barely made them budge. "Let go!"

"Oh, we will let go," Maverick assured him threateningly. "Twyne, what're we gonna do to him?"

Oliver didn't need to reply; he grabbed the smaller boy by the collar and dangled him on the edge of the well. 

"Hope someone sees you before evening," Maverick sneered. "Or not."

Just as Oliver was about to let go of Goodd, hand clutched the well's edge. Followed by another. Slowly, the hand ascended, revealing a drenched woman with long black hair wearing a Huxley uniform.

"What the hell?" Oliver cursed in horror.

Behind him, his lackeys screamed like scared babies and ran away in fright.

Goodd, unaware that a horrifying creature had emerged behind him, pushed Oliver with all his strength, causing the bully to tumble down on the dirt. Goodd took it as his chance to run away, leaving Oliver alone with the woman from the well.

Slowly, the woman raised her head, revealing a bruised face and blood mixed with water trickling down her face.

Weakly, she cried.

"H-h-help me...!"

Oliver let out an ear-piercing scream.