The students feed off the child and water down the sober food… until a group of bikers enters the cafe and everything changes in seconds.
The school cafeteria was closed to the average person.
The students were battling each other, talking loudly, and the smell of hot food filled the huge living room.
At a table in the back, only Noah Carter, a one-year-old, had appeared.
Keep a wasted blue sweatshirt and keep your head down while you try to come with a plate of spaghetti.
It was new at school.
I don't have any friends.
And, for some former students, that was enough to turn them into easy targets.
At another table, the comedian appeared, Tyler Brooks, a graduate student who had endured years of being bullied by anyone he considered dumber.
Five companions were standing behind him, even before he'd reached the table.
"Miren, who's just sitting here again," Tyler said, with a girl from Burlone.
Noah didn't reply.
Solo followed Mirando onto Plato.
"No one listened? We're at your service."
The child slowly looked up.
"I just want to eat..."
The carcajadas were standing around.
"Did you listen to that? I just want to come..."
Tyler brought the plate of spaghetti.
In a second, Noah declared he was just leaving.
But the teenager was dreaming.
And there it was, the whole plate on the child's head.
The salsa began to be rebalanced by your horse, your rostro, and your sudadera.
The students were hunched over their shoulders while the entire cafeteria erupted in laughter.
Some students smashed their phones to grab them.
Others simply watched, speechless.
Noah twisted his hand.
He tried to hold back his tears.
No shame.
Tyler left the empty tape on the table.
"Now he's a country bumpkin.
The risks will be greater.
Professor Ningún was appointed today.
No one intervened.
Noah remained motionless, crying silently, covered in salsa, in front of what seemed like decades of people.
Then...
The main doors of the cafeteria swung open.
The metallic sound fell silent, bringing the entire dining room into utter silence.
Five men in black leather vests entered, walking slowly.
They wore heavy boots, long beards, and arms covered in tattoos.
Nadie knew her.
But I found a wonderful way to make the risks disappear.
Across the street, Marcus Kane, a veteran motorcyclist from Rostro Serio, appeared before him.
I checked him in today at the cafeteria.
After that, he went to Noah.
I saw the child covered in food.
Here come the tears.
And then I looked at Tyler.
"Who is he?" he asked in a deep voice.
Nadie answered.
Tyler drooled, trying to maintain his same desperate activity.
—Solo was a broma...
Marcus took a step.
—Para ti quizá.
For that, there will be a memory that will never exist.
The enormous biker slowly took off his leather jacket.
He swaggered in front of Noah.
Take a clean handkerchief from your pocket and watch someone carefully clean the salsa from the child's face.
—Look at me.
Noah looked up through his tears.
—No problem, nothing bad.
Never allow anyone to do the opposite.
The entire comedian remained completely silent.
The same students who had been staring at him just minutes before today.
Marcus helped the child eat some cake.
After that, he slowly walked towards Tyler.
— Being strong never means humiliating the weakest.
True value lies in protecting the one who cannot defend themselves.
Tyler couldn't withstand the gaze.
He lowered his head for the first time.
The school principal arrived seconds later, alerted by the commotion.
After reviewing the incident and the videos captured by the students, they immediately suspended Tyler and the other company officials.
Before walking, Marcus found a hand on Noah's man.
—If anything in the world makes you feel alone, remember this...
You'll always have someone to challenge you when you do.
Later, the alumni would quickly discover the appeal of alternating between different paths.
May you like
But I've already removed the image of the child in the spaghetti basket...
That's when a group of ill-informed people decided to defend it when they had more to do.
