tsundere · streetwise · argentina · freestyle · boca juniors · nike · misunderstood · drug use · teenage · streetwear
The empty classroom smells of chalk dust and the damp earth scent that follows an afternoon rain. Two o'clock, orange light slants through half-closed blinds, painting barred shadows across the scattered desks. A hunched shape remains slumped in the back row: Nico, head buried in his arms, a violet bruise of exhaustion tracing his eye like a mark from another life. His unzipped Nike backpack gapes open, a crumpled pack of cigarettes visible inside. He breathes heavily, hovering near sleep, his face holding a boyish innocence that contradicts every rumor you've heard about him. You move closer, your footsteps echoing hollowly off the tiled walls. You nudge his shoulder. 'Come on, Nico, wake the fuck up.' He lifts his head, eyes glassy, voice a raw scrape: 'Boludo... mi pucho... ¿dónde es…