The Disolate Scion

Deliberate

After a fierce struggle, he finally saw an opportunity. He gripped Matthias's arm, his eyes ablaze with determination as he declared, "I'm Juelz, really. How did Terrence describe me?"

The scorn in Matthias's eyes triggered a wry smile as he abruptly released Juelz's arm, grabbed his hair, and pulled it back forcefully, delivering a resounding slap to his face. "Do you really think I'm that gullible?"

Upon arrival, he had received a clear warning, and coupled with the mole beneath his eye, Matthias had no doubts about Juelz's identity. He simply believed that he was being stubborn. 

"Blame yourself for getting involved with the wrong group." He pulled out his phone and started taking pictures of Juelz.

Huddled on the ground, with disheveled hair, Juelz looked utterly pitiful. When he saw Matthias still taking photos, he instinctively shielded his face.

"Please, no more photos, don't capture my face!"

"I've been insisting I'm Juelz, Juelz. Why won't you believe me?"

"Persist, and I'll make sure you all pay the price."

No one bought into his words; this group was absolutely convinced he was Zak, especially since Zak had given a specific warning.

As he listened to their mocking taunts, an overwhelming feeling of helplessness consumed Juelz. As time passed, he found himself unable to utter a word, and even his feeble breaths brought pain to his battered body.

With his fingers clutching the ground, he struggled to shift from a crawling position to a seated one. Desiring to contact someone, he reached for his phone, only for Matthias to ruthlessly kick it away.

"You..." His already battered face contorted, and Juelz briefly entertained the thought of retaliating against Matthias.

"Alright, time's up," Matthias clapped his hands and walked away. "I hope you've learned your lesson this time. It won't be as straightforward next time."

Juelz leaned against the wall, slowly rising from the ground. He gingerly touched the corner of his mouth, noticing the fresh blood on his fingers.

His injuries were severe, and he felt pain throughout his body. Upon hearing approaching footsteps, he muttered curses through his swollen lips.

"I've never seen my brother in such a state before." A young man's clear voice resonated nearby. Juelz abruptly turned his head, his gaze filled with hostility as he looked at the newcomer. "It's you, you knew all along, didn't you? Was this deliberate?"

"What do you mean by deliberate?" Zak blinked his eyes, his dark pupils under his long lashes displaying a trace of confusion. He then picked up his phone and aimed it at Juelz's face, innocently saying, "They were looking for Zak with the teardrop mole, and they weren't mistaken."

The screen reflected Juelz's countenance, and the mole beneath his eye caused his pupils to constrict. He bellowed and knocked Zak's phone from his grasp, finally understanding why Zak had touched him earlier. He raised his hand and vigorously wiped off the mole.

He had often wondered why this group had such unwavering faith that he was Zak. Now he had his answer.

"What's it feel like to face the consequences of your actions?" Zak reached out to straighten his disheveled clothes, wearing a playful smile. "You're quite the refined pianist, you know. You can't afford to present yourself in such a disarray. It wouldn't just bring disgrace upon Vanderose but also tarnish your own reputation."

Juelz paused, his words emerging through clenched teeth. "What's your game? Don't push it too far."

"Not much," Zak replied with a smile as he left the restroom. "Just returning the favor for what you had in mind for me."

Juelz had an unsettling feeling about this. As he staggered out of the restroom, he noticed a group of doctors approaching.

To make matters worse, most of the parents from the high school's Class A had also gathered around.

His vision blurred, and he slumped to the ground. After regaining his composure, he rushed back into the restroom, securing the door, unwilling to let anyone witness his wretched state.

It was all Zak's fault, that despicable individual.

Juelz trembled, propped against the door, biting his lip fiercely, his eyes filled with intense resentment.

"Could you please open the door? We've received a report of an altercation here. Are you a senior from Class A?" one of the doctors pleaded. "We can't afford any further delay if you're injured."

Feeling cornered, he glanced at the nearby window, scrambled up, and saw a crowd gathered outside.

Juelz breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they hadn't spotted him. Just as he was about to retreat, Terrence Rodriquez, from the crowd, pointed at him and exclaimed, "It's Zak! Zak is inside!"

The crowd erupted into commotion, and Juelz was so infuriated that his eyes blazed with anger. He wished he could kick Terrence from behind the window.

The restroom door was forcefully pushed open.

In fear that he might act impulsively, those who entered immediately seized Juelz's hand and ushered him out of the restroom.

Confronted by the shocked and disapproving looks of the onlookers, Juelz lowered his head, avoiding their gaze.

"Is this Zak? What on earth happened to him?"

Samantha Elliott furrowed her brow and quickly stepped forward, feigning concern. "Zak, what's going on? How did you get hurt?"

Juelz stifled his emotions and said, "Mom, it's me."

That single sentence widened Samantha Elliott's eyes. She pushed aside the others and carefully examined Juelz's injuries.