THE BULLY THEY WANTED DEAD

Today was going to be a day to be remembered for Dennis Lawson.

A student who had always been ridiculed and laughed at, Dennis watched as most of the students walked straight into the auditorium, whispering and talking in jest.

The auditorium had never been this full.

Students filled every seat. Teachers stood along the walls. Even members of the board were present.

These were people who never showed up unless money or prestige was involved.

And today?

It was both.

Dennis Lawson stood backstage, his fingers clenched tightly around the edge of his presentation file.

His gaze scanned the number of people in front of him. In fright, he wiped the sweat gathering on his chin.

He could hear their murmurs, excitement, and anticipation.

For once… it wasn’t about Jack Voss.

"Dennis," a voice called from behind him.

He turned sharply.

Professor Hale, a man in his early forties, stood behind him, arms folded, his expression unreadable as always.

"It's time,” the professor said.

Dennis swallowed. “Sir… everything’s ready. The data, the models, the prototype—”

"I said it’s time.”

"Yes, sir.”

Dennis took a breath and stepped forward.

The moment he walked onto the stage, a bright light hit him.

For a split second, he froze.

Then came a light applause from the front seat. It was not loud, but it was something.

And for someone like Dennis… that was enough.

He walked to the podium, adjusting the microphone slightly.

"G-good afternoon,” he started, his voice slightly shaky.

A few students in the front row exchanged glances. Someone chuckled, but Dennis ignored it.

"My name is Dennis Lawson, and today I’ll be presenting my research on adaptive energy conversion systems—”

"Speak up, Lawson!”

Laughter erupted from somewhere in the middle rows.

Dennis's jaw tightened. He raised his voice.

"This system is designed to—”

"Designed to what? Bore us to death?”

Another round of intimidating laughter echoed through the hall, but Dennis didn’t look at them.

He couldn’t. All he needed was to avoid just one gaze.

Jack Voss.

Instead, he pressed forward, clicking the remote.

The screen behind him lit up with his work—months of sleepless nights, endless calculations, and quiet hope.

"As you can see, the core principle relies on dynamic feedback loops that allow energy stabilization even under fluctuating conditions—”

"That's… actually impressive.”

The voice didn’t come from the students. It came from the front row.

One of the board members leaned forward, adjusting his glasses.

Professor Hale’s posture shifted slightly. Dennis looked back and saw that they were all interested in whatever it was he was talking about.

"Thank you, sir,” Dennis said, more confident now. “If I may continue—”

"Please do.”

And just like that, the room changed. The whispers quieted, the laughter faded, and for the first time in his life, people were actually listening.

Dennis moved through his slides, his voice growing steadier with each word.

"This model can reduce energy waste by up to thirty-eight percent in unstable environments. It’s scalable, cost-efficient, and—”

"And original?” a voice cut in.

The room went still.

Dennis's hand froze on the remote. He knew that voice.

Slowly… he turned.

Jack Voss leaned back in his seat, one arm draped casually over the chair beside him. A faint smile played on his lips.

"M-my work is fully documented,” Dennis replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “Every stage of development is recorded.”

Jack tilted his head. “Is that so?”

He paused for a bit.

"Funny."

Dennis's chest tightened.

All eyes turned slowly as Jack stood up. The entire room seemed to shift with him.

"Because what you’re describing…” Jack continued, slipping his hands into his pockets, “…sounds exactly like a project I submitted two weeks ago.”

The room erupted into a gentle whisper.

Dennis blinked. “That’s not—”

"Ah, right.” Jack snapped his fingers lightly. His gaze drifted slowly toward a beautiful young lady seated beside him.

Maya Henderson. Dennis's girlfriend.

Dennis’s eyebrows arched, wondering what was going on.

As she stood up, Dennis’s breath caught.

"Maya…?" he whispered.

She didn’t look at him.

Instead, she walked calmly to the stage, holding a tablet.

"Professor Hale,” she said, her voice clear and composed. “With your permission.”

Hale hesitated for only a second. His gaze fixed on the tablet and then back at her face.

"Go ahead," he said calmly.

Dennis felt his stomach drop. “Maya, what are you—”

She connected the tablet to the projector, and the screen changed.

Dennis's slides disappeared, replaced by files, documents, and data logs, all identical to Dennis' work.

But the name at the top reads: Jack Voss.

"No…" Dennis shook his head. “No, that’s not possible. That’s my work. I—I showed you that, Maya. You were there when I—”

"Enough."

Professor Hale’s voice cut through the air.

Dennis turned, desperate. “Sir, please, you have to believe me. I’ve been working on this for months. I can prove it. I have drafts, I have—”

"And so do we,” Maya said quietly.

For the first time, she looked at him.

Her eyes were so distant and cold that Dennis barely recognized the girl in front of him.

"We have time-stamped records,” she continued. “Backed and verified.”

"That's a lie!”

Gasps rippled through the audience.

Dennis stepped forward, his voice rising. “You’re lying! You took my work! You saw me work on this, Maya! You know it’s mine!”

Maya's expression didn’t change.

"Really?" she said. “But I can't remember helping out with any of this.”

Dennis stared at her.

"What?"

"We both know someone of your status can never come up with something this good,” she added. “But let’s not pretend you created something beyond your level.”

The words hit harder than anything else. A few students snickered.

"Guess the scholarship kid flew too close to the sun.”

"Should've stayed in his lane.”

Dennis's ears rang. His vision blurred, and for a moment, the lights seemed to affect his sight.

"No…” he whispered. “No, that’s not true. Maya, tell them. Tell them the truth.”

She looked away while Jack chuckled softly.

"This is getting embarrassing,” he said. “Don’t you think?”

Dennis turned to him, fists trembling. “Give it back.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

"My work,” Dennis said, louder. “Give it back.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Jack laughed mockingly.

Like Dennis didn’t matter.

"Your work?” Jack repeated. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

Dennis stepped closer. “I know it.”

Jack leaned in slightly, his voice dropping.

"Then prove it.”

Dennis opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out.

Because he knew they had covered everything. Every file, every timestamp, every piece of evidence.

Gone. Or worse, rewritten.

Jack straightened, glancing at Professor Hale. “I assume this presentation is concluded?”

Hale adjusted his glasses with a stern expression.

"It appears there has been a misunderstanding,” he said. “But given the evidence presented—”

"There is no misunderstanding!” Dennis snapped. “You’re all just choosing not to see it!”

"Watch your tone, Mr. Lawson," Professor Hale snapped.

"Then look at me!” Dennis shouted. “Look at what they’re doing!”

Every eye was fixed on the stage, watching as if it were a dra

ma and not a scientific presentation.

Dennis's chest heaved.

"You all know,” he said, his voice breaking. “You know I couldn’t have faked all this. You know I—”

"Security."

The word fell like a hammer. Immediately, two guards stepped forward.

"Remove him from the stage.”

Dennis's eyes widened. “No—wait! You can’t just—”

Two hands grabbed him as he was dragged off the stage, while many students cheered the name Jack Voss.