Chapter Text
Jaden made his way towards the library building with heavy reluctant steps,he was barely even aware of his surroundings The path stretched ahead of him in a long, slightly uphill line of worn pavement, the late afternoon light slanting across it in wide gold bands did nothing to soften the irritation sitting tight beneeth his skin.The wind kept catching the loose strands that had escaped his braid making them fall over his eyes, and he shoved them back with more force than necessary, jaw already set. The main campus building was far ahead of him.
“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath.it seemed to him that the distance between him and the building was there specifically to test whatever patience he had left. God, did it have to sit this far from the residential blocks? Every year it was the same fucking building, the same feeling of his legs being ripped by the time he’s reached halfway point, he was sure someone somewhere had designed the entire layout with the sole purpose of making students suffer.
The school year had only just begun and already three assignments sat waiting for him, all of them due before the first weekend had even arrived. He should really stop deluding himself into thinking next year would be any different. Every single year seemed to prove that someone had decided to take a personal interest in watching him struggle. Whatever. These days he couldn't be bothered to put his hair up the way he used to. It was less maintenance hence less time spent in front of any mirror so that he wouldn't have time to stop and think over what mattered now. He groaned under his breath and kept walking, shoes scuffing against the pavement, the sound of it swallowed by the low rush of wind moving through the trees that lined the path.
The library doors finally came into view, glass and metal catching the light. He pushed through them and the cooler, drier air of the building closed around him at once. The elevator would take forever plus it was already packed with students. He was dreading the stairs but alas he took them anyway, each flight tightening the muscles in his legs until by the time he reached the top floor they were already complaining. The library itself opened out in front of him in long rows of tables and shelves, the afternoon light pouring in through the tall windows and turning the dust in the air into slow gold drifts.
He shuffled forward, scanning for a quiet corner where he could sit and work on his own things without having to perform interest in anyone else’s conversation.
Genuinely, what the hell. Why were there barely any tables free?
The place was packed with the usual desperate students trying to work their points up from last year. First-years clutched papers waiting in lines in front of the printer so they could print their schedules. Upperclassmen already had the defeated look that came with overlapping deadlines.
In the far corner he could see Parrot leaning over a textbook, voice low and steady while Theo sat opposite him, eyes half-glazed, nodding at intervals that did not match the rhythm of the explanation at all.
“No, look, the coefficient goes here,” Parrot said, tapping the page with the end of his pen. “You’re skipping the steps again.”
Theo made a noncommittal sound. “I got it.”
“You clearly do not get it. Watch carefully.” Parrot flipped the page and started rewriting the equation, slower this time. “If you miss this part the whole answer gets messed up later. Theo. Are you even looking?”
Theo’s gaze had drifted toward the windows. “Yeah. I’m looking.”
Jaden let out a little laugh at the obvious lie, the sound soft and almost involuntary. It died almost as soon as it left his mouth.
Because then he saw them.
Wemmbu and Flame sat shoulder to shoulder at a table near the tall windows, hunched over the same open textbook. Flame’s voice was low and easy, this particular tone he only used when he was explaining something to someone else. No. This was only used with him. Wemmbu laughed at whatever had been said softly, the sound was went away as fast as it came. Wemmbu rarely laughed with people he wasn’t close to so that laugh did matter.
“You’re making that up,” Wemmbu said, the words carrying just far enough for Jaden to catch them. “There is no way the professor actually said that.”
Flame’s mouth curved. “He did. Word for word. I wrote it down.” He tapped the margin of the textbook with one finger. “Right here. See.“
That is the most pretentious thing I have ever heard.”
“You say the exact same thing every time we study together bro.”
“And? I'm right everytime.”
Flame laughed under his breath, the sound low and warm, and leaned a fraction closer to point at another line on the page. Wemmbu did not move away. Their shoulders stayed touching. The afternoon light from the windows caught the edge of Flame’s dreads and the side of Wemmbu’s face and made the whole scene look softer than it had any right to.
Oh please. Flame is not that funny.
The thought arrived in his head, but something bitter settled in Jaden’s chest all the same, a cold weight settled deep inside him and it had everything to do with the easy proximity, the way Wemmbu’s shoulder brushed Flame’s and neither of them shifted to create space. Out of pure habit Jaden unlocked his phone. The lock screen lit up with the date and he stiffened, the motion so small it would have been invisible to anyone not watching him closely.
31st August.
Today was supposed to have been Jaden and Flame’s two-year anniversary, had they not broken up.
The numbers seemed as if they were mocking him. While the memory of the last time they had celebrated anything together rose unbidden Flame’s kitchen, the cheap cake that had been ruined by the box which caught some of the frosting,Flame had laughed when the candles refused to stay lit and had ended up lighting them again with the stove burner because the matches had run out. Jaden’s thumb hovered over the screen.
Wow, today really just wasn't his day…
He remained standing just inside the library entrance, braid resting against his back, his eyes kept hovering over them. Wemmbu had said something else, too low to catch fully, and Flame’s answering smile was the same soft, concentrated one that used to be reserved for late night talks or shared arguments that had ended in them cuddling together.
“You’re still wrong about the second part,” Wemmbu muttered, but there was no real bite in it.
“Prove it then.”
“I will. Give me the pen.”
Flame handed it over without looking away from the page. Their fingers brushed. Neither of them commented on it. Jaden’s jaw tightened until the muscle ached. He could still leave. He could turn around, take the stairs two at a time, find somewhere else—anywhere else—to pretend nothing happened and that he can go enjoy his day. He stayed where he was, rooted to the polished floor, watching the two of them lean closer over the same page but his thoughts kept shuffling in his mind.
It was not like Jaden had always hated Flame.
It had been the opposite for so long that the shift still felt unreal when he let himself think about it.
He used to wait after class without being asked, leaning against the wall outside the lecture hall until Flame pushed through the doors with his bag half-zipped and that easy grin already forming. He made excuses when Flame ran late, covered for him when assignments were due, rearranged his own plans without complaint because being around Flame had always felt like the natural order of things. They had done everything together. Study sessions that turned into hours of talking about nothing. Walks that stretched past midnight. This kind of closeness normally made other people roll their eyes at them, there just wasn’t a world where Jaden was and Flame wasn’t with him,neither of them had ever corrected it because it was true.
Jaden still did not fully understand why everything ended.
That night the rain fell soft and steady against the windows, this kind of weather had always been pleasant for him. He had just stepped out of the shower, hair dripping onto the collar of the old shirt he had pulled on, skin still warm from the water. The clock on his nightstand read later than he wanted it to. Class sat waiting in the morning and he had decided sleep was the only choice he had left. He was reaching for the lamp when the loud banging started, hard enough to rattle the door in its frame.
He froze for half a second, then crossed the room and pulled the door open.
Flame stood in front of him, completely drenched, rainwater sliding down his face and darkening the fabric of his hoodie until it clung to his shoulders. His chest rose and fell too fast. His eyes were bright, his usual blindfold nowhere to be seen. Seems like he was in a hurry.
“Flame? Why are you here so late? You’re all drenched too, let me get you a towel—”
“Cut the crap, bro.”
The words cut through the rain. Flame’s voice was rough, scraped raw at the edges.
“I know what you’ve been saying about me. Seriously, Jaden?”
Jaden stared at him, water still dripping from the ends of his own hair onto the floorboards. “What are you even talking about?” His tone sharpened without permission, defensive already, it always got like this when something felt unfair. “Come inside at least. We’ll talk it out.”
Flame didn't move a single step. Rain continued to fall behind him in a soft, endless curtain.
“Bro, I’m done trying to figure you out and understand you. If I think about it, every time we’ve done something it was always for you. Never for me. We hang out with your group of friends. I do everything for you. You’ve literally never done anything for me. You really have this shitty habit of whenever we argue you go quiet and think things will fix themselves. I know that’s what you’re gonna do now. Sure, I mess up at times, but seriously you treat people like they’re a joke. I don’t think you’ve ever taken me seriously.”
Flame’s breathing grew heavier with every sentence. The words tumbled out like they had been waiting behind his teeth for weeks.
“Calm down,” Jaden cut in. “Are you hearing yourself?” his voice climbed. “If you felt this way you never once brought it up. How exactly is it my fault that you feel this way when you’ve never tried to reach out first?” The moment the sentence left his mouth Jaden knew he should not have said it. Maybe if he had swallowed the words they could have still patched something together. Instead the tension between them only ended up increasing.
Flame looked at him like he was seeing something new and ugly. “You’re not even denying anything. Look at yourself, bro. You always treat me like some stupid errand boy you keep around to get your work done. I’m sick and tired of you.”
“Sick and tired of me?” Jaden’s own voice rose to match. “Flame, you never tried communicating. Your whole ‘I don’t wanna talk about my personal feelings because I’ll seem weak’ bullshit is what got you here. Fine. I get it. It’s my fault if you felt this way. But how was I even supposed to know you thought all of this?”
“Well now you know,” Flame bit back.
“Where is this even coming from, Flame? What were you even talking about? What exactly did I say about you, and who even told you all that?”
Flame’s jaw clenched. Rainwater dripped from his chin onto the floor. “Bro, I overheard you. ‘Flame’s too much at times. He does too much and then pretends to be clueless on why people hate him.’”
The words brought back the event.
Okay.
Jaden had said that.
But Flame had not heard what came after.
He had not heard the rest of the sentence that had followed without hesitation: but honestly I think that’s what makes him who he is. He’s strong. Doesn’t give up. And he’s really kind and has a big heart. He has imperfections but I don’t think I’ll even meet someone like Flame.
Back then, and even now, Flame had only caught the first half.
“Flame, wait—yeah, I did say that, but—”
“Forget it, bro. We’re done. Don’t talk to me ever again.”
What followed felt worse than the argument they were having. Flame had left. Jaden stood in the doorway with wet hair and a half-formed apology stuck somewhere behind his teeth, the rain continuing its soft fall behind the one person who had once been the center of every plan he made.
They should never have gotten into a relationship.
What they had built since they were children every shared promise, every defense of each other, every late-night walk and stupid inside joke would never be the same again.
In the coming days Jaden had really tried to fix what little was left between him and Flame. He showed up outside Flame’s last lecture wanting to patiently talk it out like he used to when they were still inseparable, waiting against the wall with his bag over one shoulder and an apology already shaped behind his teeth. He sent messages that went unanswered. He lingered in the places they used to hang out together—the empty stairwell on the third floor, the bench behind the main building—hoping the familiar ground might make the conversation easier. None of it worked. Flame walked past him without slowing, eyes fixed somewhere past Jaden’s shoulder, and each attempt ended up in the same way.
It seriously hurt him when he finally found them together.
The afternoon light was thin and gray, making the surroundings look washed out. Jaden had rounded the corner near the old practice rooms on the far side of campus, still carrying the half-formed hope that today might be different, when he saw them. Flame sat on the low concrete ledge with his shoulders curved inward, and Wemmbu stood in front of him, one arm wrapped around Flame’s back, the other hand moving slowly through Flame’s hair in steady, deliberate strokes. Wemmbu’s head was bent close. He pressed a kiss to Flame’s forehead gently; it felt like it belonged there like the gesture was made for Wemmbu to do.
Jaden stopped walking. His heart beating loudly and his eyes suddenly blurred.
He blinked once, hard, as if the image might rearrange itself into something other than the scene in front of him. It did not. Wemmbu’s fingers kept moving through Flame’s hair. Flame’s eyes were closed. The whole picture looked so natural like it had every right to be there.
He opened his mouth to protest, hoping to let out some version of what the hell are you doing or get your hands off him—but Wemmbu’s voice cut across the space before a single word could leave.
“Flame,” Wemmbu said, and the corner of his mouth lifted into something sharp and amused, “isn’t that your ex-boyfriend?”
The snicker that followed was the least of Jaden's worries.
Wow what a bitch…
Flame’s eyes opened. He looked at Jaden for half a second, and whatever expression had been on his face when Wemmbu was holding him vanished like it had never been there.
“Go home, Jaden.” Flame’s voice was flat, stripped of the warmth it used to carry without effort. “Didn’t I tell you? Don’t ever talk to me again.”
The words landed the same way as the ones spoken in the rain. Jaden stood there with his mouth still slightly open, the protest dying unspoken, the sight of Wemmbu’s arm still resting across Flame’s shoulders burning itself into the back of his eyes. He did not wait. He turned around and left, the sound of his own footsteps too loud in his ears, the path back towards the main campus was long. Guess it's always been a pain to jaden.
Was it really that easy for Flame to end what little they had left?
The question followed him all the way across the quad, through the glass doors of the nearest building, up the stairs. He didn't care if he pushed some students out the way. He did not mean anything to Flame. Not from the start. All of it, the times he waited after class, the excuses he made, all that talk about being inseparable—had been bullshit from the get-go. And the fact that Flame had gone to Wemmbu, of all people, the one person Jaden hated with such clarity, told him everything he needed to know about Flame’s morals. Everything.
Flame was hopeless and Jaden regretted ever being near him.
Jaden huffed under his breath the moment his eyes found them again. He was eyeing Wemmbu more than flame for some reason.
Wemmbu sat at the same table near the tall windows, shoulder still too close to Flame’s, both of them were now working on individual assignments. Jaden quietly observed Wemmbu, He had always thought lowly of him. The feeling was old; it had defined most of their teenage years, it ended up in giving eachother bruises, ruin projects and the feel satisfaction of watching the other one look pathetic. It went all the way back to a single afternoon in second grade, when the purple-haired boy had still been small enough that his feet did not quite reach the floor from the classroom chairs.
The classroom had been a small room. Jaden had been eyeing the hall pass the teacher kept on the side table since the AC wasn't working too. Afternoon light was the only thing lighting up the classroom. Jaden had already claimed the seat by the window for Flame, a bag placed squarely on the chair as a clear signal, when the new boy stopped beside him.
“Hey,” Wemmbu had said, voice bright with easy confidence; he was clearly someone who had not yet learned to expect rejection. “Is this chair empty?”
He was smiling. The purple hair fell into his eyes a little. He looked like he expected the answer to be yes.
Jaden did not even look up from the drawing he was half-finished with. He put a hand on the bag and kept it there. “It’s taken. Sit somewhere else.”
The smile faltered. Something bitter settled at the corners of Wemmbu’s mouth, small but already sharp. He stood there for another second, as if waiting for the joke to land, then turned and walked to an empty seat three rows away without another word. Jaden had saved that chair for Flame, who had conveniently decided to take the day off. If he had known Flame was not coming he would have moved the bag without thinking twice. Instead the moment calcified into the first real mark against him in Wemmbu’s mind, Jaden had been too young to care; he obviously had other problems a 7 year old had to deal with.
That was only the start.
By high school they really despised each other. They were at each other’s throats so often that teachers had given up; they stopped bothering to separate them and simply assigned them to opposite sides of every room. Wemmbu ruined projects Jaden had spent weeks on spilled ink across carefully drawn diagrams, “accidentally” deleted typed out notes, once switched the labels on a chemistry set so that Jaden’s reaction went wrong in front of the entire class. And every time, without fail, Wemmbu would catch his eye afterward and snicker, soft and mean, as if he took pleasure in whatever Jaden was currently suffering through.
Their fights had always ended up getting physical. They clawed at each other, fists twisted in hair, knees driving into soft places, both of them determined to leave the other with at least one visible bruise, one mark that would still hurt the next morning. There was something darkly satisfying about seeing the other one look pathetic, lip split, cheek swelling, blood drying in a thin line down the chin. Jaden still remembered the feeling in those moments. He felt so satisfied knowing that the mark on Wemmbu's body was made by him.
Then came that shitty prank.
It had started as something stupid, the idea felt clever at sixteen. Rejoice and Wemmbu had planned an outing. Jaden was young and naive and well also upset at whatever Wemmbu had said to him the day before , decided to lock Rejoice in the old storage room on the top floor of the unused wing to keep him from showing up. Just for an hour. Hopefully long enough to ruin the afternoon. He had not expected the door to stick the way it did. He had not expected Rejoice to climb out through the narrow window that opened onto the roof. He still did not fully understand how the rest of it happened—only that one moment Rejoice was shouting down at him, hopefull and a little scared, and the next there was the terrible, final sound of a body hitting the ground far below.
Wemmbu found Rejoice's body first.
The fight that followed was unlike their usual fights. There was no bickering, no motive for making bruises that would fade. Wemmbu hit him in hopes that jaden would end up breaking at least one bone. Jaden remembered the taste of blood in his mouth, how his vision dazed, the sound of someone shouting for a teacher. And still like the stupid dumb teenager he was, he had looked up at Wemmbu from the ground and smirked.
“Guess he really wanted to make it to your little outing,” Jaden had said, voice thick. “Shame.”
Wemmbu’s face had gone white with a rage, his hands shook; it looked as if he himself didn't understand what to do. Wemmbu had argued that Jaden should’ve been suspended. The school had settled for suspension. Flame had found Jaden afterward in the empty locker room, blood still drying on his collarbone, and had cleaned the cuts with the careful, steady hands Jaden had always trusted. Flame’s voice had been quiet and certain.
“I’ll get him to apologize for doing this to you,” Flame had promised. “Who’s he to think he can do this and not face any consequences”
Jaden had felt safe then. Flame’s arms had been warm and solid around him, the same way Wemmbu’s arms had looked around Flame in the present, and Jaden had seriosuly thought he had found room to breathe he had clung to flame his head resting against flames chest as flame held him safely away from students shouting and calling him murderer.
If anyone asked him now whether he regretted Rejoice, the answer would be a nod of his head followed by a “yes”. He would do anything to change that single afternoon. The memory lived in his chest, the dull feeling of emptiness kept haunting him. the sound and the look on Wemmbu’s face before the first punch landed. It kept him up between other thoughts, in the moments when no one spoke to him. There was this particular way, Wemmbu looked at him across a room, his gaze full of hatred. As if Jaden could care, the feeling was mutual.
Rolling his eyes hard enough that it almost hurt, Jaden turned to leave the library. He had seen more than enough. The image of Wemmbu and Flame bent over the same page pissed him off more than it should have, and the only sensible option left was to get out before he ended up opening his mouth. He made three steps toward the doors before he collided with someone and immediately regretted it.
Spoke.
Oh god. He had genuinely triggered an unskippable cutscene. Get him out of here.
Spoke’s eyes lit up the second he registered who he had walked into. Spoke had this way of making anyone uncomfortable, he had that particular smile that only meant he was upto no good. Jaden sighed there’s no getting out of this.
“Well, well,” Spoke said, voice pitching just loud enough to carry across the nearest tables. “Look who finally stopped staring at Wemmbu, I'd almost think you fell in love. You’ve been watching him for ages, Jaden. People are going to start talking. Or wait, perhaps they already are.”
Jaden’s entire body went rigid. Panic flashed through his chest. He did not think. He clapped one hand over Spoke’s mouth, the other fist curling into the front of Spoke’s jacket, and dragged him towards the exit harshly. Spoke made a muffled sound of protest but did not actually fight it; if anything the glint in his eyes said he was enjoying the reaction too much to stop.
Behind them, at the table by the windows, Wemmbu’s head turned. He watched the brief exit with a small confused sound in the back of his throat, brows pulling together.
Flame glanced up from the textbook. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Wemmbu muttered, already looking back down at the page. He elbowed Flame lightly in the side. “Focus on your work, loser.”
Finally, they were outside. Well that wasn’t that hard. Jaden did not let go of Spoke until they had put a safe distance between them and the glass doors of the library. The second his hand left Spoke’s mouth, the other boy was already laughing.
“God, do you have to be this childish?” Jaden snapped, voice low and sharp.
Spoke’s eyes shifted color the way they always did when something delighted him, something Jaden knew Spoke was capable of doing during his very first run in with him. Spoke leaned against the wall, a devious smile forming on his face.
“Jaden,” he said, still grinning, “the whole school knows.”
Jaden raised a brow, the expression tight. “What are you saying—”
“The whole school knows,” Spoke repeated, laughing now, the sound bright and merciless. “That the whole reason you and Wemmbu picked fights with each other is just because you liked the feeling of being on top of one another.”
Jaden actually choked. The sound came out strangled and disbelieving.
“Are you fucking serious? Me and him? Like what!?”
Spoke only laughed harder he ended up clutching his stomach for support.
“Why do you think people would start whispering every time you both fought—”
“Well I always thought they were talking about Rejoice,” Jaden cut in, the name leaving his mouth before he could stop it. His face felt hot. “I would’ve never thought they were talking about me and Wemmbu liking the feeling of each other’s body or something—”
Spoke’s laughter stuttered. He stared at Jaden for a second, eyes still shifting, then shook his head with something almost like pity.
“That’s… not what I said.”
Oh great. Jaden was just digging his own grave and someone save him.
“You know what I meant,” Jaden muttered, already regretting every syllable. He shoved a hand through the loose strands that had escaped his braid, jaw tight. “Whatever. I hate him. I don’t like him at all. Go bother someone else, Spoke.”
Spoke pushed off the wall, still smiling that same infuriating smile. “Sure you do,” he said lightly. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day it’ll sound convincing.”
He sauntered off down the corridor without waiting for an answer, leaving Jaden standing there. Eventually, Jaden just walked away as well he had better things to deal with. But the damage was already done by the time Jaden and Spoke parted ways in the corridor.
Multiple people had overheard the exchange near the library doors. And obviously some kind of twisted version of the story reached the general crowd. By the time the classes were over some childish rumours started to spread.
What? Jaden doesn’t like his boyfriend?
Well, what’s new.
What do you think happened with Flame? He was talking like this about him too back when they were together.
Looks like he never changes.
Whispers like these did not need any sort of proof, the only source they needed was enough people willing to repeat them.
Eggchan was one of the first people to notice them actually...
Wemmbu came back to their shared dorm after the library session looking drained, he seemed more tired than his everyday self. His shoulders sat lower than usual.He dropped his bag by the desk and sat on the edge of his bed without saying anything, staring at the floor wearing a confused expression on his face.
Egg watched him for a long moment from the other side of the room. He’d come across the rumours already bits and pieces of conversation in the hallway, a pair of first-years laughing behind their hands about Jaden and Wemmbu and old fights that had apparently meant something else other than just fighting. He had been ready to bring it up. The words sat on his tongue. Then he looked at the line of Wemmbu’s back and swallowed them.
“Wemmbu, bro,” he said instead, voice low and even. “You seem tired.”
Wemmbu did not look up right away. When he did, the usual quick temper was nowhere in sight. Just a dull kind of exhaustion.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Today was just an awkward day. Plus Jaden was acting weird.”
Eggchan waited patiently. He could have asked how. He could have mentioned people were spewing rumours about him. He did neither. He simply nodded once, pulled the desk chair closer, and sat silently listening to what the other had to say. Wemmbu talked in short, incomplete pieces after that something about the way people had looked at him on the walk back with pity and Egg just nodded at a few things and gave advice at the end of it all. He didn't think it was necessary to burden Wemmbu with something else right now.
In the dorm flame and Lomedy shared together the living room was filled with the smell of freshly baked pastries and cookies.
Lomedy set a small container of fresh cookies on the desk without ceremony, he always had a habit of baking just to keep his hands busy. The cookies were still slightly soft in the centre. He didn’t bring up the dark smudges under Flame’s eyes or how Flame had been staring at the same page of notes for twenty minutes without turning it.
“Have you been sleeping?” Lomedy asked quietly.
Flame huffed, the sound more tired than annoyed. He reached for a cookie, breaking it in half before answering.
“Yeah. I’m trying to fix my schedule.” He took a bite, chewed, swallowed. “It’s just the start of the semester. It’ll settle.”
Lomedy did not look convinced, but he nodded and sat on the edge of his own bed, pulling his knees up. He also didn’t mention the things he had already heard in the common room. Sure he wanted to know what happened between Jaden and flame considering what he heard “What do you think happened with Flame? He was talking like this about him too back when they were together."He decided not to, he just wanted to make sure Flame was okay and if Flame wasn't talking about it then it was not his place to ask.
Jaden’s phone lit up on the nightstand; this was the third notification he had gotten.
The notifications were already stacking by the time he dropped onto his bed in his dorm, braid half-undone, shoes kicked off without care. He unlocked the screen out of pure habit and stared at the messages that had begun to pile up.
Why does he date people if he’s gonna be a dick about it
does he ever shut up about the people he’s with
flame really dodged a bullet
imagine talking about Wemmbu like that after everything he did
He read them once. The feeling felt familiar, the same story as older accusations that had followed him after the breakup. For a moment the old defensive irritation tried to rise in his chest the urge to reply, to correct, to protect whatever was left of his reputation. Then it drained away, leaving only dull exhaustion.
He turned the phone off completely and set it face-down on the nightstand. He moved to turn off his night lamp and lay back, stared at the ceiling, and closed his eyes. Sleep came slowly and when it did the dream just replayed the thoughts of the earlier conversation.
He truly had better things to deal with and Jaden will not let this ruin his final year, he'll think of something to do against this soon.