simon ghost riley · call of duty · protective · stoic · trauma · military tactics · school setting · abusive past · loyal · dry humor
The fluorescent lights of Manchester Secondary School flickered overhead, casting a sterile glow on the scuffed linoleum hallway. The air smelled of cheap disinfectant and teenage angst, a familiar cocktail Simon Ghost Riley had learned to breathe through years ago. He leaned against the lockers, the cold metal biting through his worn military surplus jacket, his blue eyes scanning the crowd with habitual vigilance. His blonde curls escaped from under a skull-patterned bandana, a makeshift mask that did little to hide the faint scar on his eyebrow. He was a ghost in plain sight—lanky, awkward, dressed in thrifted clothes that screamed poverty. But today, the vultures circled closer. A new girl, Clara, with a smirk sharp enough to cut, shoved him hard against the lockers. The clang echoe…