[center][h1][b][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLjcwYjI5NC5VM1JoWTJWNUlFZHlZWGtnLjAA/roughmarker.regular.png[/img][/b][/h1] [img]https://i.imgur.com/TIHtBbu.jpg?1[/img][/center] Stacey felt trouble coming right before Hagan turned him around and grabbed his collar. "What the fuck was [b][i]that[/i][/b], Stacey?" He knew this would happen, yet he wasn't ready for it. It wasn't comforting when Brodie said he could take it. He's sure he could, but he doesn't have the benefit of a hospital if his ribs break or he gets a concussion. Overlaying Hagan's face was Brodie and Braeden, and other members on the football team. Black edged his vision. He panicked, slapping at Hagan's hands to let him go. "Let go, let go, please. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. She ki-kissed me first." Tears clouded sight. He cried. "I didn't touch her. I swear, Brodie, I didn't!" He hiccuped, breath short, fingers tingled as they lost feeling, and his face turned red. "Do-don't hit me, Brodie. I'm sorry!" He completely lost it, movements frantic to get away despite his body feeling numb and he couldn't breathe. Get away, get away, get away. He couldn't outrun them, but he could try. Could he get to his car and drive away? But he'd have to come home eventually and Sandy wouldn't want him at her house for long. He's not ready for a beating. "Please." He coughed, throat clogged.