A nosebleed. How embarrassing. 

Maksim quickly retrieved a tissue buried in his pocket, flicking it out with murderous intent. He stifled the bleeding, taking a look to see how heavily it was bleeding. A patch of wide-eyed, grinning redness stared at him on the paper. It almost soaked through. 

If there was one thing he learnt from his time in New York, it's that the tissues are cheap. And overpriced. Here, at the heart of the country, sat a man with a heart trying to explode from his chest. Maksim was incredibly out of his depth; at least, that's what he thought. Around him were a smorgasbord of upcoming heroes, each with bright futures ahead of them. They had been dealt a favourable hand by God, and Maksim had a feeling that his card was either a joker or an ace. He still knew so little about his place in the world, barely old enough to walk and function, yet here he was, being scooped away in the arms of the most funded in the country. 

Growing up in the pan-handle state of Oklahoma, everything was ordinary. There was so much space for a human being, and they certainly made good use of it, with each person occupying as much space as they could, but on this bus everyone was . . . a bit cramped. 

If he failed? His life would be a disaster. He would have failed everyone that cared about him and he would spend the rest of life biting his tongue, both literally and metaphorically, to wish he had tried harder or been born differently. Maybe things would be easier that way.  

And if he succeeded? He would be a hero.

And for that reason, he would give himself a chance. 

A chance to feel the warmth of the sky radiate through the windows, a chance to feel the pressure exerted by everyone on the bus, and a chance to breathe. One breath at a time.