S H A W N

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

This was what his mother used to tell him each time he felt his anger resurfacing when he was younger. But his mother wasn't here with him today, and he knew that the anger could be useful during a game, coming to his aid like an old friend.

Shawn had locked himself inside the locker room's bathroom, trying to ease his mind before the start of the rugby practice. He splashed some water across his face a few times before resting his palms on either side of the bathroom sink, looking back at his own reflection in the mirror.

He touched the little scar on his forehead. He had gotten it when he was a kid and had fallen down the stairs. Others might have called it a flaw, but Shawn liked it. His dad used to joke that it made him look tough. He used to say that scars are not something to be ashamed of, whether they are visible or from within. Shawn hadn't understood what that meant when he was younger.

"Anderson! Hurry up!" Shawn heard Thomas call out to him loudly. Thomas Nash was the team's captain, and the best player among them.

Shawn dried his face with his sleeve and then left the bathroom. As he advanced through the locker room, he threw a quick glance at David Wilson — another one of his teammates — who was tidying his locker; it was filled with old water bottles, red envelopes, and ugly bracelets that his girlfriend had probably made for him.

Shawn had always gotten a sense that most of his teammates loathed him, including Wilson, but Shawn couldn't care less.

The practice began, and soon he lost track of the ticking clock. When he played that brutal game and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, when the adrenaline filled him up and the rush of blood coursed through his body, it was the only time he could feel at peace. It was the only time he felt alive. To lay somewhere motionlessly and to be haunted by the silence of an empty room was like a slow death to him, like something that gradually sucked at his soul.

After almost two tiresome hours, their coach finally called it a day and dismissed them. For his first day of returning to the field after three months away, Shawn had done a surprisingly good job at not getting too many injuries.

On his way to pick up the water bottle he had placed on a bench nearby, Shawn caught someone waving at him from the almost-empty audience stands.

     Looking up, he grinned when he saw Nicholas sitting there with the same warm smile that he always seemed to carry around with himself. Beside him, Luca was seated with a book in his hands as he read through it, lost in his own world.

Luca was wearing his glasses again, which he only used for reading or when he was in class. They were almost round, with thin, golden frames. Shawn would never admit it to him out loud, but he always thought that Luca looked good in them, over his petite and upturned nose.

Even last year, Luca used to come to the rugby field more often than the other three boys, but Shawn didn't expect that it was because Luca wanted to support him. He never seemed to watch the practice anyway and his head was always stuck in a book. Shawn assumed that he only sat in the stands because it was a good reading spot.

Shawn waved back at Nicholas before taking a large sip from his water bottle. He was still breathing heavily after the practice, his perfect tanned skin glistening with sweat underneath the sunlight that bore down on him.

His head turned almost carelessly when he saw two girls approaching him, giggling together as they stole glances at him and whispered to each other. He was far too used to this that it no longer excited him, but he sometimes found enjoyment in the occasion.

"Hello," he said with a flash of his usual smirk once the girls had reached him, tracing their figures with his gaze.

"You were brilliant out there!" the girl with blonde hair blurted out, and the brunette beside her nodded eagerly in agreement.

"I do my best," Shawn said in a voice slightly deeper than his own, throwing a wink at their direction that in return made them giggle.

"I'm Betty, by the way," said the blonde girl, playing with the end of her hair as she looked up at him through her long eyelashes. She then pointed at her friend, saying, "And this is my friend, Patricia."

"Pleasure meeting you both," Shawn said with a handsome grin.

"So..." Betty started again, a sweet smile playing on her red lips. "The dance is this Friday, and... well... I wanted to ask if you'd like to go with me."

This was his third invitation so far, and he'd only been at the university for two days. Shawn wasn't sure if he liked her or either of the other two girls that had asked him to the dance, but he liked stringing them along.

"I'm not sure if I'll be going to the ceremony with anyone, but how can I say no to that face?" He said, gently tipping her chin.

     Though it was only for a moment, the girl seemed to have lost all her senses and looked completely hypnotized.

     "Save me a dance, love," he whispered to her huskily. And so, with one last wink at them, he walked off.

He hadn't taken more than three steps that he saw Nicholas and Luca walking down the stands and toward him.

"Brilliant practice," said Nicholas, high-fiving him.

"I know. As always," Shawn replied arrogantly, laughing.

His eyes then fell upon Luca, who was standing right behind Nicholas, his dreamy gaze wandering around the field. No matter how many times Nicholas kept telling him to leave Luca alone, Shawn couldn't possibly help himself. He felt such enjoyment in annoying Luca that no giggling girl could ever give him.

"Was my practice so boring to you that you chose reading a book over it, Little Sunbeam?" Shawn asked, his lips tucked up into a smirk.

Luca's head turned at him. He managed to return the grin, though it was small and fragile. "I always choose my books over everything and everyone, including you. Don't take it personally."

"Too late. It's already personal," Shawn said calmly, but then he caught Luca off guard when in a swift motion he snatched the book out of his grasp, running away with, laughing. The rush of excitement was quick to return back to him.

"Hey! Give it back!" Luca cried out in surprise, going after him as fast as he could while Nicholas stood on the spot and cheered them on like it was a game. "Don't be a child, Shawn! STOP!"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop," Shawn said as he kept on laughing, coming to a halt as he let Luca catch up to him. But Shawn then raised his long arm and held up the book so that no matter how hard Luca tried or how high he jumped, he couldn't reach it.

"Oh, come now, Miller! Even my little cousin could've taken this from me sooner than y — AARGH!"

Shawn yelled out from surprise when the next moment Luca tackled him and hurtled the both of them to the ground, using Shawn's shocked state to his advantage and taking his book back before quickly getting up to his feet.

"I have to admit... that was actually quite good. I didn't know you had it in you," Shawn said breathlessly, chuckling as he got up while Luca was dusting his own coat off with his hand.

Without answering, Luca turned around to walk back to where Nicholas stood by the stands, but Shawn could've sworn that he saw a hint of a pleased smile appear across his pink lips.

Shawn was about to join his friends as well, but he came to a halt as a harsh voice called after him from a distance, as sharp as a whip. "Anderson!"

Turning to look behind, Shawn saw David Wilson pacing toward him in heavy footsteps, the look of anger evident all over his face. His new buzzcut had somehow made him look even more serious than last year, and had made his blond hair look darker.

Shawn lifted an eyebrow at the boy. "What's got your knickers in a twist, Wilson?"

"You think you're funny, do you?" Wilson spat out the words with offended dignity, glaring daggers at him.

"Yes, most of the times." Shawn nodded in a mock-humble manner.

He then recognized the look on Wilson's face; he was moments and words away from punching Shawn across the face, and that amused Shawn for some reason. Wilson held up his long chin to look down at Shawn through bright green eyes that were filled with rage.

"Listen here, Anderson," the boy went on, pointing a finger bellow Shawn's chin warningly, narrowing his eyes at him, "I saw you flirting with Patricia just now. I don't care who you think you are, but you will stay away from my girl! You hear me?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down!" Shawn raised his hands up in defense, letting out a chuckle that could charm anyone, but apparently not the boy in front him. "How about first you tell me what kind of a blind idiot has agreed to date you."

And that did it.

Wilson mustered all his strength and slammed his hands against Shawn's chest, pushing him back.

A deadly silence dropped between them. The remaining people in the field had turned to watch them now. Shawn had managed to remain on his feet and contain his balance, but his grin faded at once, replaced by furious eyes and gritted teeth. He could feel the familiar fire starting within him.

The match was always inside him. All he needed was the spark to burn down the world.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

He had gone deaf to the voice of reason inside his head, or rather, he had learnt how to ignore it over the years. With his chest out fiercely, Shawn took a step closer to the boy, towering his tallness over Wilson.

"Do that again," he growled quietly so only the boy could hear him. He went on, tacking onto each word slowly, "I dare you."

Wilson didn't move. For a moment, he could see the demons awaking in Shawn's eyes, waiting, lurking, eager for their moment to pounce, hungry for blood, craving freedom. They'd been locked up and chained for too long. 

    "Screw you," Wilson muttered distantly, giving him one last glare before turning on his heel to leave, mostly out of fear.

    The surge of disappointment filled Shawn up like a mad sickness. Just as he could never walk away from a fight, he couldn't let someone else walk off either.

    "That's right!" Shawn yelled after him as a desperate attempt to draw him back. "Crawl to your girl like the coward you are!"

    Wilson halted, his fingers turning into a fist. Shawn smirked. This was exactly what he needed. Wilson turned around to rush toward him and throw the punch, but Nicholas and Luca came just in time to jump between them and to stop them from hurting one another.

While Nicholas stood in front of Shawn to block his way, Luca had dropped his book to the ground and was now holding Wilson back with all his might. He couldn't have prevented the angry fist of the boy any longer if other team players hadn't rushed forward to split the two apart. 

    "Don't act all high and mighty, Anderson! You don't even belong in this country!" Wilson yelled out as the other boys pulled him further back from Shawn. "You better watch your back!"

    "Thanks for the advice, Wilson! But believe me when I say you'll need it more!" He shouted as Nicholas and Luca tried to drag him away.

***

After the storm died down within him each time, Shawn was always filled with remorse and regret, though his pride never allowed him to show it. Or perhaps it was his shame.

    He missed being a child, feeling as though it had slipped away from him. Things seemed easier back then. The ice cream used to taste better. His parents' embrace felt warmer. Time was meaningless. The world was endless. And his mistakes seemed small and worthless.

    "How are you feeling?" Nicholas's voice snapped Shawn out of his thoughts.

    "Fine," Shawn mumbled his reply. Luca and Nicholas had taken him back to his dorm, sitting him down on the bed so he could catch his breath and calm down a bit, but he felt more restless than ever.

    "I'd understand if you said that you weren't," Nicholas said sympathetically. "Wilson crossed a line when he said... what he said."

    Shawn knew exactly which part Nicholas was referring to. He pursed his lips together, tapping his foot on the floor frantically as he said gloomily, "You know what the funny part is? Arthur's grandfather was French, but I don't hear anyone telling Arthur to go back to his own country."

    The other two boys remained quiet, glancing at each other sideways. They needn't say anything, for they both knew. They knew that the world was cruel for its endless injustice, and crueler still for determining someone's worth from the color of their skin.

    "What was the fight even about?" Luca asked, leaning against the windowsill as he folded his arms across his chest.

    "Some rubbish." Shawn sighed, shaking his head. "He thought I was flirting with his girlfriend. She was the brunette one, Patricia. But I wasn't even talking to her! I was talking to Betty; the blonde girl."

    "You could've just told him that." Nicholas said gently, sitting beside him on the bed. "Why did you do it?"

    Shawn looked down with a frown, pausing for a second or two, during which time he pondered the matter deeply, though he came to no conclusion. Why had he done it?

    "I don't know," he whispered.

    He had never known the answer to that question.