Nottingham, England. 1998.
A place with burnt cigarettes, jet black shoes, button up shirts, and combed hair.
Things that almost every boy at Westview Charter School worships.
Westview being the one school that produces the kinds of men that society...
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Victor Nikiforov has and never will be the kind of boy to follow the rules.
Rules being a foreign concept to his juvenile mind.
He didn't see the point in not being able to chew gum in class, lips talking smack to the teachers like they were his equals.
And when he wasn't blowing on that bubbly confection, he always had a cloud of cigarette smoke to blow in their exasperated faces.
Because god, did he love the burning sensation of nicotine lighting up his twisted mouth.
And he did both of these things with, of course, his Doc Martens on top of the desk, his feet swaying back and forth like pendulums.
He also didn't see the point in waiting till he was 21 to drown his sorrows in cherry flavored vodka and whiskey that had you forgetting your first name.
Age defined nothing, darling.
And well, he (of course) didn't see the point in driving down highways at a speed between 40 miles per hour and 70 when he could speed to his heart's content.
The police on his tail and their sirens blaring over his loud stereo was no trouble for him.
In his own words, "they wouldn't give me a speedometer with the choice of a number between 1 and 200 if they didn't want me choosin'."
But of course, he knew that this rebellion of his was just silly child's play.
He did these things for fun and solely because he liked the fuming look it put on his teacher's and fellow high school student's faces.
And fuck, did he really like how it earned him some well deserved attention from his own family.
A family that could have given less of a shit about the platinum-haired troublemaker.
Because he did what he wanted, when he wanted, and didn't give people an explanation when they asked for one.
However........
Lidia Nikiforov, his fed up failure of a mother, was done asking for an explanation she knew she wouldn't get.
Especially when Victor's antics went from child's play to downright breaking the law.
That boy had walked way too close to the edge of a cliff one too many times, a cliff of impending danger and rebellion.
And it took one more bad decision for him to finally have the guts to jump off.
