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Wes wasn't stupid. He'd known, on some conscious level, that doubling down would tarnish his reputation in some way.
He knew it was gonna get him thrown off the B-list, at the very least. That little vanity, he didn't care so much about. The schools' hierarchy system was extremely childish and he never much cared for it. The only reason he was ever on the B-list in the first place was because of his place on the basketball team.
He never let his imaginary status stop him from doing what he loved, or talking to whoever he wanted whenever he wanted. Due to this he thought he was on decent standing with a lot of people and clubs around the school.
What he hadn't expected, however, was the entire student body straight up alienating him on the flip of a dime.
Everywhere he walked, he'd hear their whispers, the comments flung at his back when they thought he wasn't listening. The faces people made, and how they shuffled to the side to avoid being near him. The vandalism done to his locker, and the cruel pranks his classmates would play on him.
Taunting him. Mocking him.
He thought he'd at least have his friends, but they eventually turned tail too.
They had always laughed at his conspiracy theories, but it was all in good fun, and some have even joined in on occasion. They had always shot the shit with him.
Why this one specific observation --not even a theory, but an actual occurrence they could have very well seen if they just payed attention-- was suddenly a deal-breaker, he couldn't guess.
The divide from his friends wasn't immediate, but as time went on, they started avoiding him more and more. Dodging him at practice, coming up with excuses for why they couldn't hang out after school or during weekends. Eventually the excuses started bleeding into school breaks, lunches, and even classes. He couldn't even ask them to pair up for school projects anymore. Teachers had to start force pairing him with people, which was always met with retaliation, complaints, or requests to be paired with someone else.
Wes had thoroughly misjudged how much influence the A-listers had over everyone. He had known it was enough to keep their positions at the top, but he hadn't known how far it went. Didn't think it'd be enough to drive even his closest childhood friend away.
Well, "childhood", rather the first friend he made when he initially moved to Amity in 5th grade. They'd been together through thick and thin up till recently. Movies, arcades, sleep-overs, messy break-ups, parental divorce, dateless school dances, evenings staying out past curfew, everything.
Wes' hobbies and ramblings had never been an issue before. They'd spent hours just coming up with random hypotheticals to explain Bigfoot, or the Loch Ness monster, or even extraterrestrial life visiting earth.
Idyllic childish promises of always sticking together fluttering on the wind between the two as years went by.
It was unfathomable how someone could ditch their best friend over faux social pas. Someone who'd seen the best and worst of him, who had once been a shoulder to lean on in his time of need, turning around and telling his deepest darkest secrets to someone he didn't know just to preserve whatever pathetic little modicum of popularity they had because, suddenly, Wes was considered the local lunatic of the school.
It made Wes' blood boil.
It didn't help that even Danny and his friends had decided to jump on the bandwagon, siding with people who should have been their mutual enemy.
The memory enough to make Wes grind his teeth.
Wes hadn't said much, just a one-off comment on something Paulina had said about Danny; how it was hypocritical to say she hated Fenton but loved Phantom when they were one and the same, especially with how she and the others treated Danny on a daily basis.
He knew he could be more observant than most (his photography eye coming into play), and he knew the A-listers only cared about what was relevant to their own interests and tended to overlook anything else, but he didn't think he was the only one in the entire goddamn school who noticed all the weird shit Fenton pulled.
It was highly unlikely, statistically improbable even, that Wes had been the only one to see some of the stuff Fenton did. It was a crowded public building with hundreds of people day in and day out, and Danny wasn't exactly subtle.
The one time Wes had brought it up to his former teammates and friends, they said they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, and it was left at that. Nothing more than "typical Fenton behavior"; the whole family was odd.
Their answer wasn't exactly a denial of what he'd seen, so he watched.
And the more he observed, the more he noticed. He had just assumed it was considered a fake "secret" among the general populace.
Maybe it was something not everyone knew, but most did and just didn't comment on. This was Amity Park, after all. Strange things happened, especially when it came to the local ghost hunters, and you did not want to incur their wrath or attention.
He didn't really seek any more answers from anyone else after that. Just watched and took note, like he assumed most everyone else was doing.
Maybe he'd sprinkle his observations here and there into his tangents, but that was it.
He'd always been too blunt for his own good.
He hadn't thought what he said to Paulina was out of line, nor what repercussions it might have.
And when he refused to apologize or take back what he said? Their retribution had been brutal and swift.
The rumors spread so fast, and very quickly spun out of control.
He hadn't thought much of it at first, didn't care. They were the A-list, renown assholes. They slandered anybody that opposed or went against them. He had never put much stock into their gossip, and thought it'd die down after a few days like it always did.
He'd been so wrong.
They had a personal grudge against him now, and the days turned into weeks, then started turning into months. The longer it went on, the worse people treated him.
People pushed him around, threw garbage at him, stole his books or gym equipment from his lockers, even going so far as to act all buddy-buddy and lead him along, just to tear him down and make him the butt of the joke, to publicly humiliate him in various ways. He'd dealt with people asking him out on false dates before, but this was so much worse.
Everytime he tried to open himself up to people or make new friends, they showed time and time again he couldn't trust anyone.
It had become a game around the school where people would see just how far they could push Wes before he came crashing down.
It got to a point where he couldn't stand it anymore. He dropped out of the basketball team and A.V. club, and curled into himself. Would eat his lunches in the abandoned shed behind the gym, avoided lingering in the halls once the bell rang, and stayed home or wandered the woods surrounding Amity during his free time till it got dark out. Anything to get as far away from people as possible.
Despite his best efforts to make himself scarce and move on, people refused to let him live it down. He couldn't even trust his own brothers, or his father. They were just as bad as his classmates.
They mocked and ridiculed him every chance they got. Told him he was seeing things, making it up for attention.
When he complained people were going out of their way to mess with and hurt him, it was brushed off. His brothers would tease he earned it for being a crack-pot, and his father would just comment that, "kids could be cruel".
It was unbearable.
He was alone.
So he snapped.
Took it even further, tripled down. Changed the game. If they wouldn't drop it or leave him alone, he'd just have to become what they thought he was. Become their problem.
He had nothing personal against Danny, at least not at first. This had been a matter of spite. He wanted to tear the A-listers, their loyal followers, and his traitorous friends down. Wanted to raze their pathetic status quo and pride to smithereens. Show them just how wrong they were. There was nothing else for him to lose, it was a stacked game.
Danny had been nothing more than a convenient scapegoat at the time. A walking target that was a bystander to this whole storm, but also the very epicenter of it all.
Then the youngest Fenton added his piece to the board, and all hell broke loose. He and his friends actively worked against and sabotaged Wes’ attempts to get proof at every turn, preventing his victory, joining the chorus of mockery and ridicule. They were just as cruel as the rest of the student body, if not more-so.
It forced Wes to up the ante, he refused to step down from the challenge.
They all became locked in a perpetual game of cat and mouse.
For Wes, it had become more than just trying to prove he was right, or getting even.
It became a vendetta. No one would be left unscathed. Wes would drag every single one of them down with him, kicking, and clawing, and screaming if it was the last thing he did. No matter the cost.
Suppose that was his downfall, because here he was now, cowering while the city burned around him, clutching his brother's lifeless body while trying to stifle sobs.
He couldn't let his anger go, even months after the siege on the city had started because some people still refused to believe their "beloved hero" would turn his back on them. They wallowed in their denial, and it cost them everything.
Kyle had still adamantly refused to believe it was a ghost that had caused all this destruction. While he saw and acknowledged the damage was real, he had dropped any pretense about this being a skit or town-wide show and had told Wes he needed to snap out of it and see it for the civil war it apparently was.
Of course Wes couldn't just let that slide, he was too stubborn. Everything they knew was being reduced to ash, and his brother couldn't even relent to the fact that he was wrong for once in his goddamn life. It was infuriating.
He had forced Kyle to sneak out with him, despite the warnings blaring overhead to stay inside or hidden.
He’d take it back if he could.
All of it.
If he had just stopped letting his bitterness cloud his vision, put his shattered ego aside, maybe... maybe none of this would've happened.
Maybe if he could just keep his damn mouth shut for once in his miserable life Kyle would... he...
He'd lost even more than he thought he could. The price was far steeper than he initially imagined. A price he hadn’t considered, and didn’t want to pay.
The moments of his brother's death replayed over and over in Wes' mind. He couldn't bring himself to move.
He had no idea how long he'd been there; he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, the world had stopped moving.
It was just him, the empty rubble, the distant roar of a blaze, and the disfigured corpse of his brother.