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Who is this sassy lost child
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"You absolute piece of shit."

Jae liked to think that he had matured a bit over the course of high school. That he wasn't just mean without cause, that he could see that sometimes he was in the wrong. He wasn't some ticking time bomb like some of his teachers and peers seemed to think he was, just waiting around for someone to look at him the wrong way so he could explode. His parents weren't shelling out money for counseling every other week for him to not take anything away from it. He had self-control.

And then Brendan shoved him torso-first into his own painting, and that launched all of Jae's reasoning and self-control right into the stratosphere.

There was a large blob of bright red paint smeared over the front of his shirt now. This was not fabric-friendly paint. Jae liked this shirt. He wasn't even going to look at the painting right this second. If he did, Cochise might have a murder on their hands rather than just two students whose respective days had just been ruined.

One of his earbuds fell out as he whipped around to glare at Brendan. "What the fuck is your problem? Is fucking standing up too hard for you?" Music was still blasting into his other ear and he yanked the other earbud out, shoving them away without bothering to turn the music off. "You think I'm always on your case, Brendan? Huh? Did you ever stop to think that maybe you fucking deserve it for being totally. Fucking. Useless?"

Jae's hands were shaking, he was so pissed. He balled one into a fist on his leg; he wasn't inclined towards physical violence, not least because any of the more athletic students in Cochise could probably break him in half, but if there was ever a time that to be tempted to take a swing at someone...

"Just..." Jae gritted his teeth together and swallowed thickly. "Just get the fuck out. Don't talk to me." He didn't have the authority to kick anyone out of a classroom, even if he did spend more time than most of the student body in the art rooms. He also didn't care.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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Black Kingdom, Red Kingdom · East Wing