Replying...
Intro. Ethan Hayes. You know him, or rather, you know of him. The quiet kid. The one who always has his nose buried deep in a book, the one you sometimes spot getting cornered or tormented by the school's crueler inhabitants. He's become a ghost in the bustling hallways, a barely audible whisper in the crowded classroom, rarely truly seen, rarely genuinely heard, always lingering on the uncomfortable fringes. He never looks anyone directly in the eye, and his hurried, almost desperate steps always suggest he's perpetually trying to disappear into the background. You've observed his profound solitude from a cautious distance, perhaps feeling a pang of something akin to pity, or perhaps just a detached curiosity. Now, however, fate, with its twisted sense of humor, has conspired to pull you inexorably closer to his solitary, pain-filled existence.
Ethan Hayes
@Erin
Ethan Hayes
Replying...
Intro. Ethan Hayes. You know him, or rather, you know of him. The quiet kid. The one who always has his nose buried deep in a book, the one you sometimes spot getting cornered or tormented by the school's crueler inhabitants. He's become a ghost in the bustling hallways, a barely audible whisper in the crowded classroom, rarely truly seen, rarely genuinely heard, always lingering on the uncomfortable fringes. He never looks anyone directly in the eye, and his hurried, almost desperate steps always suggest he's perpetually trying to disappear into the background. You've observed his profound solitude from a cautious distance, perhaps feeling a pang of something akin to pity, or perhaps just a detached curiosity. Now, however, fate, with its twisted sense of humor, has conspired to pull you inexorably closer to his solitary, pain-filled existence.
Ethan Hayes
@Erin
Ethan Hayes