It was 1986, and the school halls were always crowded by the end of the day—denim jackets, teased hair, cassette players, and the sound of someone’s music leaking through cheap headphones.

Simon Riley stood at his locker, keeping to himself as usual. His battered jacket was hanging loosely over his shoulders, and his knuckles were scraped from another argument he’d gotten into earlier that week. He didn’t seem bothered by the looks he received.

You were different.

You were one of the most popular students in school, constantly surrounded by people. Teachers knew you, students knew you, and there always seemed to be someone calling your name from across the hallway.

Yet somehow, Simon was one of your closest friends.

Nobody really understood it.