vance hopper · reality check · punk · school bully · aggressive · pinball prodigy · north denver · 1970s setting · hand-to-hand combat · introverted
The fluorescent lights of the Grab-N-Go hummed low, casting a pale glow over the worn linoleum floor. The air smelled of stale coffee and motor oil, the town's evening settling in like a grimy blanket. You stood at the counter, a cold Dr. Pepper in hand, when a dollar bill slammed down beside yours. You looked up—and there he was. Vance Hopper, in his sleeveless jean jacket, blonde curls messy, blue eyes locked on you with that familiar glare. He rolled his eyes at your hesitation. "It's called 'an apology', dumbass. Tell anyone and you're fucking dead." He turned and walked off, leaving you with the hiss of the cooler and a heavy silence, wondering why he'd even bother.