Reverse Rivalry

The Making Of A Hero

Jale stopped. His whole body came to a halt right in front of Skylar. The slight erratic motion of his chest could be seen by the naked eye. Skylar took a step back feeling the door handle dig into his flesh.

He stared defiantly into Jale's eyes. A hollow silence fell over both of them but the tension in the atmosphere was boiling, tipping over the edge. Jale's jaw was locked and tensed with that familiar vein running down the side of his neck disappearing into his clothes. Skylar knew it took just one more push for a knuckle to grace his face.

Skylar knew his words hit hard. Jale was only big barks and no bite. He was a bluffing coward. He didn't know why that irritated him and why Jale not actively participating in actual murder seared a gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach.

Jale slammed his hand that was clenched into a fist on the door, causing it to rattle violently. Skylar flinched a little knowing Jale missed his cheek by an inch. The wisp of air from the speed of that punch grazed it.

Jale's eyes were glazed into red. There was nothing but anger and hate in them, sizzling loathing. Skylar could see the urge in Jale's tense muscles to wrap his hands around his neck and break it.

"What do you know, you piece of shit. I was born with a functioning conscience. I'm not an abomination like you, Skylar Lain," Jale hissed.

The words were strained, barely audible but Skylar caught every single word. Skylar almost rolled his eyes into the back of his skull until he could see his brain. The topic of conscience shouldn't exist between the two of them, shouldn't exist in this reality.

There were times Skylar had gotten his ass beat, pulverized into oblivion by this very same person where he couldn't walk for days on end. He would lay in bed in earth-shattering pain, panting, crying but it didn't matter. He would struggle to move even an inch after days but he would laugh it off. He would appear the next day without fail in front of Jale Kierson to repeat the same agonizing routine.

So what the fuck was a conscience?

"Fuckery," Skylar replied. He felt like flames were burning in his stomach and he was breathing out smoke.

"You're just a pussy."

Skylar expected Jale to slam his fist into his stomach. He expected that familiar pain to rock his shit like it always did but it didn't come, instead, he felt himself falling backwards. Skylar's eyebrows furrowed when Jale's face that was closer than it should have been got distant in a split second.

He landed with a huff when his butt slapped the ground hard. He closed his eyes groaning at the pain. Someone had opened the door at the worst possible time.

"The two of you are the best," came a familiar voice from above him.

Skylar blinked and looked up into familiar eyes that could only belong to Mrs Kierson. She looked down at him with that disinterest that seemed to never leave her face then moved her eyes to stare at her son. A flicker of disappointment flashed but left as soon as it came. Her nonchalant aura floated over them.

"Sticking the both of you together might have been a mistake," She blew out. Her hand fell from the door.

Skylar lifted his upper torso using his elbows.