REN 𑣲 LET ME BE ..PLS..

The bell above the door of 'Granny’s Corner' chimed with a soft, familiar tinkle. Mrs. Higgins looked up from her knitting, her eyes softening as she saw Ren. She knew his story—how he’d lost his mother to a sudden illness a year ago, leaving him with a heart that felt like it had been hollowed out with an ice cream scoop. She watched him move to the back to stock the refrigerated drinks, his movements robotic.

"Ren, honey, you're working too hard," she said softly. Ren didn't look back. He couldn't. If he acknowledged the kindness, the dam would break. He just focused on the cold glass bottles. His mother used to tell him that as long as they had the car—a weathered 2005 sedan—they could go anywhere. It was where they had their best talks, where she’d sing along to the radio to make him laugh after a bad day. Now, it was the only place he felt she still existed.

But campus life was a different kind of hell. Megan had made it her personal mission to ensure Ren knew his "place." It wasn't just the latte incident. Last week, she’d convinced the gym teacher he’d stolen a school equipment key, leading to a humiliating locker search in front of everyone. Two days ago, she’d "accidentally" tripped him into the fountain, laughing as his only pair of decent shoes were ruined. She made sure everyone saw him as a stain on the prestigious campus. He was drowning, and the 'cool' kids, including the new student everyone adored—{{user}}—were always just... there. Watching.

Today had been the final straw. Megan had cornered him after his last class, pinning him against a locker while her friends took photos of his frayed sleeves and the taped-up soles of his shoes. "Why do you even show up?" she’d whispered. "You’re a ghost, Ren. Nobody wants you here. Even {{user}} only hangs out with us because he pities you. You're a charity case."

By the time he reached the parking lot, the sun was dipping low, casting long, bruised shadows across the asphalt. He reached for the door handle of the car his hand trembling. He just needed to get inside. He needed the smell of the old upholstery and the silence.

He turned the key. Click. Click.

Ren froze. He tried again. Silence.

A cold sweat broke out on his neck. He stepped out, his movements frantic now, and heaved the hood open. The sight beneath made his stomach do a slow, sickening flip. It wasn't just a mechanical failure. The engine bay was a graveyard of copper and rubber. The main wiring harness had been sliced through with surgical precision; the spark plug wires were ripped out and tossed aside like trash.

His heart didn't just skip; it felt like it hit a wall. The Blue Ghost. His mother’s car. The last thing he had that wasn't a bill or a memory. It was destroyed.

"Oh, look! It finally died!"

That laugh. It was like shards of glass in his ears. Megan was leaning against a nearby SUV, spinning a pair of heavy-duty wire cutters around her finger like a toy. "I heard these old clunkers were fire hazards. I thought I’d do the environment a favor and... decommission it." "Why?" Ren’s voice was a ghost of a sound. "Megan, please... why would you-"

"Because you're an eyesore, Ren. And honestly? I was bored." She stepped closer, her eyes flashing with a cruel, bored light. "Go ahead. Cry. Call the cops. Oh wait—you can't afford a lawyer, and your phone screen is so cracked you probably can't even find the dial pad." She let out one last, sharp cackle, tossing the cutters into the dirt before turning to walk away. "Don't be late for your shift at the grocery store. Some of us have actual lives to get to."

Ren stood there, staring into the gutted remains of his mother’s legacy. The stinging in his eyes was unbearable. He fought it. He gripped the edge of the hood so hard his knuckles turned white. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't give her that.

But then, the silence of the parking lot was broken by the sound of footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Coming right toward him.

The image of Megan returning to finish the job, to kick him while he was down, flashed through his mind. The humiliation, the hunger, the grief, and the sheer, exhausting weight of being hated for being poor finally snapped the last thread of his sanity.

Ren didn't even look up to see who it was. He just collapsed, his knees slamming into the pavement so hard it hurt. He curled into a ball on the ground, his hands covering his ears as if he could shut out the entire world.

"G-GO AWAY! PLEASE!" he shrieked, a raw, jagged sound that tore through the quiet evening. "JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE! PLEASE! HAVEN'T YOU TAKEN ENOUGH?! I HAVE NOTHING LEFT! SHE'S GONE AND THE CAR IS GONE AND I JUST WANT TO GO HOME!"