Koby knew something was wrong the moment he turned down the corridor that morning, heading toward the art workroom. Cecily Salt was standing with Assistant Dean Galloway in the hall, outside the open door to the studio. She was wringing her hands, but at the sight of Koby, she dropped them, her skin as white as a sheet.

“K-Koby,” she croaked out. “You’re here. Uh…”

“There’s been an incident.” Gallows sounded irritable. He flicked his hand in the direction of the workroom door. As Koby approached, he realized the lock had been pried off and the edge of the door was splintered and smashed. Inside, Koby saw Alana, Wendell and Yu Yan all standing in the middle of the room, looking lost.

Then Koby realized why.

Shock and horror hit him like a sucker punch as he crossed the room’s threshold and took in the sight of the workroom.

Or what was left of it.

Several shelving units had been pulled over, scattering their contents all over the floor. Paper, pencils, brushes, chalk, fabric, bottles of glue and paint, sharpeners, easels – there was a sea of carnage all over the linoleum. College posters and artwork had been ripped from the walls and scattered, including several of Wendall and Yu Yan’s pictures. One of Yu Yan’s biggest still-life drawings have been ripped in two, the halves now dangling limply from her hands as tears pooled in her eyes.

Koby was almost too afraid to turn to his sculpture, the masterpiece he and Vince had been lovingly crafting together. It was like he was twenty again, realizing some asshole had trashed his final project out in the courtyard. Except this was ten times worse because he wasn’t the only one who had been violated.

And the sculpture felt like the only true evidence he and Vince existed.

Or at least it had.

A bucket of red paint had been upended over the almost finished work. It looked like the vandal had also taken a hammer – one was lying on the desk nearby – and smashed as much as they could of the body. The fingers had been bent and twisted, some broken off completely and scattered on the floor. There were parts that looked melted where the vandal had used the welding torch or soldering iron. The inner cogs and nuts were scattered everywhere.

It was ruined.

Koby didn’t realize tears were running down his face until one dripped from his chin. He angrily scrubbed at his cheeks. Months’ work, destroyed. All the love and care he and Vince had channeled into making the sculpture, all gone in a matter of minutes.

“Has someone called the police?” Koby asked, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

“Yes, of c-c-course,” Cecily said, stepping carefully around the debris to join them. “I just don’t know who c-c-c-”

“Could have done this,” Galloway finished impatiently. “Yes, it’s very annoying. Duvall, I assume you’re going to struggle to finish the project in time for the stadium opening on Christmas Eve?”

Koby felt his mouth drop open as rage filled his chest. “Is that all you care about?” he asked incredulously.

Old Gallows huffed. “Yes, I’m very sorry for all”- he waved his hand -“this. But I have a schedule to stick to. I don’t know how bad the damage is. Can you salvage anything?”

Koby balled his fists, his throat tight. “It’s pretty fucking bad,” he snarled. “I might be able to do…something. But you’re going to have to give me some time to process this shit.”

How had it happened again? Galloway hadn’t cared last time and he certainly didn’t seem to care eight years later. But Koby felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest.

All the school cared about was their sports star and their football stadium. They didn’t care about protecting Koby or his work. They didn’t even care that other people had been caught in the crossfire. This was their safe space, their place to come and forget the rest of the world. And thanks to Koby and whoever hated him this much, that had been violated too.

Old Gallows threw up his hands. “Whatever. We’ll put the statue up another day if it’s too late for the ceremony. Just inform me of the estimated completion date when you know.”

Then he left. Just walked out, buttoning up his gray suit and checking his phone like he couldn’t wait to get away.

Cecily took a deep breath. “Koby, are you all right?” she asked.

No, he really wasn’t. But Koby turned to the others, who all looked shell-shocked. “I am so, so sorry,” he croaked.

Wendell had his arms crossed and his mouth was working like he didn’t know what to say. But his eyes were red. “That was my work, mine.” He jabbed his finger toward one of the paintings left on the floor. “Some little jerk just comes in here and throws it all away?”

Koby’s heart broke. Over the past few days, he’d been trying his best to say hello to Wendell whenever they were both in the workroom and ask about his day or what he was painting. Wendell had slowly been warming up, just a fraction. Now all his walls were all back up. Fuck. Koby had only just encouraged him and Yu Yan to pin their art on the walls, only to have it ripped, torn and stomped on.

“No, no.” Wendell shook his head and marched over to the door. “Animals behave like this. I don’t have time for this sort of disrespect.”

They watched him go. Yu Yan then dropped her gaze to the ripped drawing in her hands. “I can redo it.” Her voice was small and fragile. “It will be better second time.” She didn’t sound wholly convinced.

But she swallowed and placed the two halves carefully on the desk beside her, then crouched to try and rescue more of her and Wendell’s work, as well as old pictures from former students that had been on show. The one place in all the college where work had actually been displayed. Now it was just trash.

“Let me help you.” Cecily knelt beside her as they tried to pick up and piece together what had been savaged.

Koby turned as if in a daze, suddenly thinking of Alanna as well as Gareth, who was absent. “Your laptop wasn’t here, was it?” he asked Alanna.

Thankfully, Alanna shook her head. “No, I always take it home. Gareth takes his tablet, too.” She gave Koby a small smile. “So there’s that small mercy, at least.”

Koby nodded. “Where is Gareth?” Had he already left after seeing this mess? Koby wouldn’t blame him.

Alanna and Yu Yan shared a look. “He’s not coming in today, I think,” Alanna said. “He…apparently he got some really nasty reactions to his Vince Russo comic. I mean, there was some unpleasant comments before. That’s just what people do. But last night…”

Last night? After Vince had shared the comic on his Twitter? He’d done that because Koby had asked him to. Alanna shook her head and sighed, rubbing her forehead. She looked exhausted.

“A troll went for him relentlessly. Anonymously, of course. But they wrote very offensive things over his Twitter, Tumblr and Instagram. Very…homophobic.”

Koby rubbed his face and looked around. “This is all my fault.”

“No, no, it’s not,” Alanna said firmly. But she did still look like she wanted to cry as she glanced around the room, rubbing the back of her neck.

“It the bad man fault,” Yu Yan said angrily. She sniffed and stood up, slapping the salvaged drawings and watercolors onto the desk. “He make the mess.”

“You know it was a man?” Koby looked between the others. Cecily nodded and also stood, bracing her back as she did.

“S-security dis-disturbed the vandal.” Her stutter worsened as she got upset. She breathed in and out, rubbing her temples, then tried again. “He ran away,” she said slowly. “The guard saw he was white, but not much else.”

Koby shook his head. He didn’t care what the others said. This was his fault. The vandal had obviously intentionally come in to destroy his work. Everyone else just had the unlucky misfortune of having their work around at the same time. Guilt and sorrow gnawed at his insides. He looked forlornly at the ruined remains of the beautiful sculpture he had been so damn proud of.

Vince was going to be devastated. Not because the sculpture of his likeness was trashed, but because he would know how much Koby’s heart was breaking. That gave him a small bit of comfort, at least. He could rely on Vince.

“I should go.” Alanna shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was only going to pop in and say hello. I might be able to come back and help tidy…” She trailed off, looking tearful again.

“Alanna.” Koby frowned, forgetting his own woes for a second. “Is everything okay?”

She gave a shaky smile as the others turned to look at her as well. “Um, not really.” Her voice wavered. “Zane’s dad…well, he didn’t much care for Zane’s nail polish. He thinks I’m trying to make Zane a girl. He – he threatened to involve Child Protection Services.”

She burst into tears and Koby threw his arms around her, aghast. Yu Yan immediately hugged them both. Cecily awkwardly patted Alanna on the head.

“Nope,” Koby said firmly, trying his best not to feel responsible for this too. It was not his fault Zane’s dad was an asshole. “That’s not going to happen. I’m going to give you my friend Chase’s number. He had something similar happen earlier in the year. He’ll be more than happy to help you out. Don’t let your ex bully you, okay?”

Alanna hiccuped and pulled away from him, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “Thank you,” she said weakly. “There is a reason I divorced him, you know?”

Koby smiled sympathetically and rubbed her arm. Then he got his cell out to give her Chase’s number before she left, hoping he wouldn’t mind. After everything Chase had been through to keep Lyla safe and in his custody, Koby was sure he would jump at the chance to help another parent in the same boat.

But one good deed didn’t undo all the other pain he’d caused.

He had tried to support his fellow students in thanks for them allowing him into their workroom. But everything had backfired.

They spent the next couple of hours doing their best to tidy and giving statements to the police. Once the room was reasonably in order again, Koby urged Yu Yan and Cecily to go. He wanted to face the mangled wreckage of his sculpture alone.

He wasn’t sure what could be done. There were probably some of the insides that could be saved, but Koby’s heart hurt too much to even think about trying to salvage anything right then.

When he was alone, he shut the damaged door as best he could and allowed himself to cry. There was only so much the universe could keep telling him what he was so passionate about didn’t matter. He wasn’t curing cancer or fighting for world peace. He just played around with bits of metal for his own amusement.

He was a joke. Nobody wanted his art, that much was clear.

He knelt down by the remains of the sculpture, resting his hand on the red paint. It was still slightly tacky to the touch.

All Koby wanted was Vince’s arms around him to make him feel safe, to make him feel valued. He knew he only had that luxury for a few weeks longer, but in that moment he would take all the comfort he could get.

He knew he should text or call and ask Vince to come, but the crying just got worse. All those years of pretending it was okay. That he could take on the world and not be afraid to lose. That he could protect and help others if he just tried hard enough. When it really came down to it, Koby was still the scared, skinny kid back in high school, too afraid to eat, never knowing when the next beating was going to come. The next time his sketchpad would get snatched from him and flushed down the toilet. The next time he’d be humiliated in front of the whole class.

So he knelt in front of what was left of his work, sobbing until his eyes were raw, feeling completely and utterly alone.