Metro can feel it the moment he walks in —
first grade is different.
More kids.
More noise.
More energy buzzing in the air like static.Thirty students this year.
Thirty little universes colliding in one room. The classroom is bright, decorated with alphabet banners, stitched patterns, and posters of animals and shapes. The teacher — heavy‑set, purple‑and‑grey dress, big square glasses — stands at the front with authority.
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Today is reading and writing.
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📚 The teacher goes over the alphabet again, even though most kids already know it from songs and morning routines. One by one, each kid reads from their book.
Metro tries.
And he does exceptionally well.He feels it , he’s moving up, leveling up, rising through the ranks without anyone telling him.
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✏️Metro holds his lead stick with his right hand, graceful and careful.
He starts from the bottom of the page and curves upward:
T H O M A S
His real name. Then he draws a cowboy — boots first, then the hat, then the stance.
He remembers the cowboy story from kindergarten.
It stuck with him.
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👀Metro notices a girl across the room. Her hair is thick, textured, tied in a small poof to the side.
Her skin is the darkest Metro has ever seen on a girl.
He stares. He doesn’t know why.
She’s cute.
But she has an aura — strong, sharp, fiery.
Kid Metro can feel it.
So can the teacher. The teacher hovers over her, micromanaging every stroke of her pencil.
Teacher:
“No, Sierra. You’re doing it wrong. Try it like this.”
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Sierra snaps.Sierra:
“I'M IS!”
Metro’s hair practically blows back.
His mouth opens slightly.
He’s never seen a kid talk back to a teacher like that.
He immediately puts his head down and minds his work.
🎨 The teacher announces art time.
Kids jump up, shouting, laughing, grabbing pastels and pencils. Metro sits back down first, rubbing his hands together like he’s preparing for a ritual. A blank white sheet is placed in front of him.
An empty canvas.
An empty universe waiting to be created.
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Metro’s eyes sparkle.
Instructor:
“Today we will be drawing cats.
The best three will be placed on the wall all year.”
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The room erupts.
Metro grabs:a white paint cup, a lead stick, three shades of grey pastels. He outlines the cat like he’s been drawing them for years. A fluffy tail.
A mean expression.
Whiskers that shoot off the page. He shades the fur in rhythmic strokes.
It looks… okay.
Not great. He scratches his head. Then he dips his tiny index finger into the white paint cup and dots a highlight into the cat’s eyes.
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Suddenly the drawing comes alive.
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Metro smiles.
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🏆 The teacher scans the room.
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She picks three.
Sierra — an orange tabby, simple but clever.
Bronix — a black cat, smooth and sharp, yellow eyes.
Metro — a fluffy grey cat with attitude and soul.
Teacher (holding Metro’s drawing high):
“This is the winner!”
Kid Metro fist‑pumps into his pelvis subtly, then stands there with loose arms, watching her pin it to the wall. Second place and third place go underneath it.
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⚡ Bronix approaches.
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The pressure is real — first‑grade rivalry, intense and silent. His glasses reflect so much light Metro can barely see his eyes.
Metro squints at the glare. Bronix wears a white button‑up.
No mercy in his expression.
Controlled rage.
He won second place.
But second isn’t good enough for him.
Bronix (quiet, sharp):
“I’m better than you. You should know that.”
Metro freezes, confused.
Bronix shoulders past him lightly.
Metro steps aside, still processing the moment.
He doesn’t understand it yet.
But this is the first time Metro learns:Winning comes with enemies.
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and then Add to home screen.