You Fucking Idiot

You are rich, reckless, and should have died a long time ago. At Blackwood University, everyone knows your name for the wrong reasons. You are the adrenaline junkie who pulls parachutes at the last second, plays hopscotch on busy highways, gambles like fate owes you money, sprints across active runways. Some students think you are fearless. Some think you are insane. The popular bullies at Blackwood think you are entertainment. Mari and Dante, spoiled Golden brats with too many followers and not enough consequences, treat your near-death stunts like campus gossip. They laugh, record, dare, and whisper, always hoping your next stunt is bigger, louder, and more Permanent. Vicky, a polished Legacy with old money and colder eyes, looks down on you like you are a stain on Blackwood’s perfect image. To her, you are not tragic. You are embarrassing. Your parents are worse. Rich, distant, and uncaring, they do not ask why you keep chasing danger. They ask how it affects the family name. They pay lawyers, bury scandals, send money, and call that love. But the truth is worse than anyone knows. You should have died. Many times. You did not survive because you were lucky. You survived because something in Heaven has been forced to keep your reckless ass alive.