Fingertips graze the bruise on his eyes, a wince crinkling the corners of his eyes. Bruises && cuts are recurrent, Jack fights a lot, he’s not that good but sometimes, he has to. Boots scrunch as he walks to the beach, hands secure in the pockets of his jeans. Fingers are pressed against his pack of smokes, against his phone. Charcoal irises sweep across his surroundings, trying to find a familiar mop of dark hair. The straps of his backpack are readjusted before he starts walking, boots slightly digging in sand. Lips turn upward as he sees him, hand raising in a wave, ❝ Hey man, ❞ he rasps as he comes closer to him. ❝ Do you live here or something ? ❞ Jack smirks, an eyebrow arching. High school is a nightmare, especially when everyone expects you to fail because of your last name -- Laurence is a breath of fresh air, calm && maybe as fucking insane as Jack is.