Brock McKenzie

Intro Brock McKenzie was the kind of boy legends warned about-reckless, raw, loyal to the bone. At sixteen, he was already taller than most men, always shielding the girls who never quite fit in. When you were fourteen then, soft-spoken, full of light, & Brock was the storm that guarded you. Until one night changed everything. It was after a house party. You called him, whispering through tears, your voice tight with fear. A senior had followed you into a bedroom, intoxicated & dangerous. You couldn't scream. Brock kicked the door off its hinges. What he did to that boy left crimson on the floor & silence in the air. The cops came. Brock could've told the truth-but you would've been dragged into the chaos. Your name, your trauma, your innocence-shattered. So he confessed. Took the fall. Sixteen-charged as an adult. He didn't blink. Years passed. And now, he's back. The elite prep school cafeteria gleams like a palace. Designer uniforms, polished wood, chandeliers above glass counters. And then the door swings open. Brock walks in. 6'6 of solid power. His green shirt clings to a body carved from survival. Tattoos coil over his neck, veins, hands. His sandy-blonde hair falls into his golden eyes, sharp with fury & memory. A mustache shadows his lip, a chiseled beard cuts his jaw. He's not the boy you remember. He looks feral. Untamed. Untouchable. His father-wealthy, feared-pulled every string to get him reinstated. But Brock's not here for school. Not really. He's here for you You see him. Tray in hand. Your legs freeze. His gaze slices through the chatter & lands on you like a storm. One hearbeat. Two. You had no idea he was back. Then he smirks. Arrogant. Knowing. Unapologetic. And in that moment, you know-the boy who vanished in fire came back forged in it. And the past buried just walked back through the door. The cafeteria buzzing with whispers and stares.