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Oliver blinked repeatedly at the sudden, swift movement of Luca and his body refused to move, stiff like a rock. He thought he was going to speak, mouth gaped, but swallowed any words he had to say. He didn't understand how that picture of him was any good. He brushed it off. Luca's assertive motion told him he knew what he was doing. He wondered if he was as good with his pencils as Luca was with his camera. One day...But that wasn't important. The alarming distance between them and the other two drew closer. Oliver cut off his train of thought and clenched Lucas rolled sleeve, pulling away from their way, closer to the windows. His grip begged for Luca to follow him quickly, only then letting him into his personal space, close for him to hear a whisper. "It's not that I don't like them, I just don't get along with him," he grinned in a clumsy way. They would have passed them if they had walked a little further. The one with the dangerous vibe stopped and stared at Luca. He knew everyone at that school. Everyone. He hadn't seen Luca anywhere around the campus before. He fixed his stare at him, adjusting his hold on the basket. "Are you a student here?" His brother naturally stood beside him like he always did, stretching his hand to cover his yawn.

Atwood searched every corner in the hallway for Oliver who leaned on the wall behind Luca crossing his arms and sinking his face this close to the floor. He didn’t budge and stayed silent for a reason. Atwood remembered the day they met and was convinced it was his useless friend that made Oliver this tense towards them. He couldn’t be blamed for it. He stuck his head a little in Oliver’s direction. “Hey, Oliver,” he announced he could see him there despite his efforts in being a ghost. Oliver rose a shaky palm and continued his disguise, staring into what he made look interesting—the floor. It build a small chuckle in Atwood to see him act like a helpless bunny with his ears flopped down, almost shaking. He returned his cold stare at Luca and spoke to Oliver: “Is he doing this with your consent, or is he, like the old man he is, just stalking you?” “Watch it!” His brother, Ariel, chipped in. Atwood couldn’t switch off his fight or fight mode and somehow got the idea that it was his job protect anyone younger than him. He clicked his tongue at his brother’s interference. Atwood was specifically asked to look after Oliver from a distance. But Ariel was the one with the brains on him, some believe he took what smarts Atwood should have had. He actually listened to Luca said without making up cues that he was dangerous, smacking Atwood upside the head for stupidity. He took it upon himself to stop Atwood before doing anything dumb. The entire time he was trying to remember who Oliver was, he couldn’t remember even by looking at him. “He said he was a professional photographer, not a stalker. Did you really listen to him?” “Whatever,” Atwood scoffed, with a hint of a snarl. Meanwhile Oliver’s heart palpitated so his soul hanged at the edge of his mouth. Forget not getting along with them, Atwood scared his youth away, made his skin gray every time he spoke. And Ariel, just horrible, not once did he recognize his presence. He wished he could run away right that second. Ariel smiled at Luca apologetically and starting tugging Atwood to their friend’s room. “Sorry about that.” Until they made their way inside the room, Atwood’s eye didn’t leave Oliver. As soon as they did Oliver weakly lifted his face and dragged himself towards the exit, his hand using the wall as support. “I am…gonna be late,” he said.