"FUCK MY LIFE."

Hayden groaned, slumped in her chair with her head buried in her hands.

Esme Sanders, standing by her side, rubbed her shoulder with a sigh that sounded equal parts exasperated and empathetic. "I get it, kid, but these are your options."

Hayden didn't look up, her voice muffled but still sharp. "So, let me get this straight. The only way to avoid paying for the damages I supposedly caused is for me to go back to school?"

The entire day had been a waking nightmare. Hayden had barely opened her eyes when the thunderous knocking at her apartment door yanked her into consciousness. Waiting on the other side? Two cops, Principal Lopez, and Judge Ramirez.

Apparently, the fallout from the school fight had reached a breaking point. Over $100,000 in damages—and now every participant was being held accountable for their share. Students had been hauled into court, one by one, facing fines, community service, or worse.

But Hayden? She'd been singled out.

Her involvement in the fight was captured on dozens of phone videos and plastered all over social media. Clips of her throwing Sam against lockers, shattering potted plants, and breaking windows had racked up thousands of views. The evidence made her one of the main culprits.

The judge had given her two options: cough up $1,888.67, or return to school on probation under a strict behavioral contract.

For most people, it would have been a no-brainer. But for Hayden, nothing about this situation felt fair.

Principal Lopez, who had always been oddly fond of her, had gone out of his way to convince the judge to give her another chance. He'd presented her transcripts—a showcase of straight A's, AP and honors classes, and an impressive academic history.

To Hayden, it all felt like a joke. Those grades were the work of a girl who no longer existed.

"Unless you'd rather pay the damages," Judge Ramirez said pointedly, cutting through Hayden's spiraling thoughts.

"How much?" Esme asked, folding her arms and tilting her head in that sharp, no-nonsense way she always did when sizing someone up.

Judge Ramirez glanced at her papers. "One thousand, eight hundred, eighty-eight dollars and sixty-seven cents."

Hayden flinched, barely resisting the urge to groan aloud. That was more than a month's rent in their run-down apartment. She could practically feel her mom tensing beside her.

"Why is it so much?" Esme demanded. "Is that what everyone else was charged?"

"No," the judge replied, almost pityingly. "Ms. Sanders has the highest amount due to the footage we reviewed. She caused significant damage to the school."

Hayden rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. Sure, maybe she had thrown Sam into the lockers, smashed a couple of windows, and broken a few door handles. But $1,888.67? That was highway robbery.

The judge pushed her glasses up her nose, her voice softening. "Ms. Sanders, you're a bright girl. Your academic record shows real potential. You could get into any college you want—if you make it through high school, that is."

Hayden didn't respond. She stared blankly at the floor, tuning out Esme's little pat on her back. If the judge thought she was still that ambitious, straight-A student, she was delusional. That version of Hayden was long gone.

"Look," the judge continued, placing the paper with the hefty fine down on the table, circled in bold red ink. "You're a good kid. But this"—she tapped the number—"this can't keep happening. Understood?"

Hayden bit the inside of her cheek, her jaw tightening. She couldn't afford the fine, not unless they wanted to live off ramen and eviction notices for the next six months. With a grudging nod, she mumbled, "Understood."

The judge nodded briskly. "Good. Now, Principal Lopez is willing to let you come back to school, but—"

Hayden groaned. "There's always a 'but.'"

The judge straightened her papers. "Given the... specific students involved, it's not just Principal Lopez's approval you'll need. You'll need the LaRussos' permission as well."

The LaRussos. The words hit her like a gut punch. Her hands curled into fists under the table.

"You can't be serious," she hissed, her voice dangerously low.

The judge didn't flinch. "They were directly affected by the fight, Ms. Sanders. If they're willing to let bygones be bygones, you can return under probation. If not... well." She gestured to the glaring red circle on the page before packing up her papers and leaving the room.

The door clicked shut, leaving Hayden and Esme in a suffocating silence.

"Fuck," Hayden muttered, rubbing her temples as Esme sighed beside her.

—

"No." Hayden's voice was firm, her head shaking so fast it was almost comical. "Nope. Not doing it. Mmm-mmm."

Esme leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as she watched Hayden pace the living room like a caged animal. "Well, I don't see what choice you have, Hayden," she said, her tone clipped. "You think we've got two grand lying around somewhere? Because if so, I'd love to know where you're hiding it."

Hayden spun around, jabbing a finger in the air. "I can't, Mom. I can't. They'll never allow it! Sam will go nuclear if they even think about letting me back in school."

"And?" Esme raised an eyebrow.

"And!" Hayden threw her hands up, exasperated. "She'll do everything in her power to make sure I'm gone. She'd crawl over broken glass and barbed wire if it meant keeping me out of that school!"

Esme gave her a pointed look. "I hate to break it to you, but Sam LaRusso's opinion isn't going to pay for the damages, Hayden. Do you think the landlord will take petty rivalries as rent?"

Hayden groaned, dragging her hands down her face as she flopped onto the couch. "It's not just her. LaRusso's dad hates me too, Mom. You think he'll go to bat for me after... after what happened?"

The scene replayed in her mind, vivid as ever.

Tom Cole had been in a smug, almost gleeful mood the day he dragged Hayden to LaRusso Auto with his ridiculous gift basket of muffins and boba packets. The whole thing had been an obvious ploy to poke at Daniel LaRusso, pretending it was a "congratulatory" visit for the success of his dealership.

Hayden had gone along for the ride, her face a careful mask of indifference as they strolled into the shop. But when Mr. LaRusso's face turned red with barely-contained fury—and when that vein in his forehead started pulsing—she couldn't stop the small smirk tugging at her lips.

The cherry on top? Handing him the boba packets herself, just to twist the knife a little deeper. The memory still gave her a flicker of satisfaction, even now when the consequences were coming back to bite her.

She didn't regret it. Not one bit.

Esme's voice cut through her thoughts. "Hayden, I know you don't want to do this, but you have to."

"No, I don't," Hayden snapped, sitting up. "You don't get it. This is all pointless. Even if I beg, even if I kiss the ground they walk on, they're not gonna let me back in. Mr. LaRusso's probably still pissed. And Sam—"

Esme sighed, running a hand through her hair. "If they say no, I'll go talk to them myself."

Hayden shot her a skeptical look. "And what are you gonna say?"

"I can be persuasive when I want to be," Esme replied with a smirk, grabbing the basket of laundry and heading for the hallway.

Translation: I can be manipulative when I want to be.

Hayden rolled her eyes, leaning back into the couch with a frustrated sigh.

-

Hayden stood on the curb outside the LaRussos' house, her skateboard tucked under one arm, and stared at the door as if it might open itself. The crisp air stung her cheeks, but she didn't feel it. She didn't feel much of anything, just a dull, hollow pressure in her chest that was half anger and half resignation.

She didn't want to be here. God, she didn't want to be here.

The LaRussos—perfect, pristine, untouchable. Hayden hated them. Hated the way they seemed to glide through life without a care, while her world had been nothing but an endless fight to keep her head above water. And now, here she was, forced to grovel for their help like some pathetic charity case.

She ran a hand over her face, trying to calm the bitterness rising in her throat. "Get it over with," she muttered to herself, gripping the straps of her backpack like they might hold her together. Her knuckles hovered over the door, and she hesitated.

It wasn't just unfair—it was humiliating.

She knocked before she could talk herself out of it, her hand trembling despite her best effort to steady it.

The door opened a moment later, revealing Amanda LaRusso in workout gear, her expression flickering between curiosity and mild exasperation.

"Oh. So you're knocking now," Amanda deadpanned, crossing her arms.

Hayden's jaw tensed, but she didn't respond to the jab. She'd already rehearsed what she was going to say a dozen times in her head, but the words felt foreign on her tongue.

"I need your help," she said flatly, forcing herself to meet Amanda's gaze. She wanted to sound confident, detached, but there was something raw in her voice she couldn't quite mask.

Amanda blinked, thrown off by the simple statement. After a pause, she stepped aside. "You remember the way?"

Hayden gave a small nod, stepping through the door without another word.

Amanda set a cup of tea on the table in front of Hayden, then sat across from her. Hayden ignored the tea, her fingers loosely clasped on the table as she leaned forward slightly.

—

Sitting at the kitchen table, Hayden felt like every corner of the house was judging her. The photos on the walls, the spotless countertops, the quiet hum of peace and stability—all of it felt like a slap in the face. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, hating the way it felt to be here, like an intruder in a life she'd never have.

Amanda set a mug of tea in front of her, but Hayden ignored it. She clasped her hands together, staring at the table as she spoke.

"I'll keep it short," she began, her voice steady but low. "A judge came to see me. I've got two options: pay for the damage I caused at school, or go back and finish under strict conditions to get my diploma."

Amanda leaned against the counter, arms crossed as she listened. "How much is the damage?"

"Eighteen hundred," Hayden said bluntly. "Which I don't have. So, my only choice is school." She glanced up briefly, her dark eyes sharp. "Principal Lopez says he'll let me back, but only if you and Mr. LaRusso sign off on it."

Amanda exhaled, tapping her fingers on the counter. "And you're okay with going back?"

"Does it matter?" Hayden replied, her tone edged with frustration. "It's not like I have a choice."

Her gaze flicked down to her hands, her fingers tightening into fists. Why did she have to do this? Why was it always her who had to swallow her pride, bend over backwards, just to scrape by? She wasn't the only one who threw punches that day, but she was the one who got dragged through the mud for it. And now she had to sit here, in the house of the one family she despised more than anything, and ask them to do her a favor.

It wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

Amanda studied her for a long moment, her expression softening. "Alright," she said finally. "I'm willing to sign off. But I need something from you."

Hayden's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. Of course there was a catch. "What?"

Amanda sat across from her, her tone gentle but firm. "I need you to promise me you'll get support. Someone to talk to—a therapist, a counselor, whoever. You've got a lot going on, Hayden. You shouldn't be dealing with it alone."

Hayden froze, her stomach twisting at the suggestion. Talk to someone? What was she supposed to say? That she felt like she was barely holding herself together most days? That she didn't know who she was anymore, or if she ever really did? She couldn't say any of that.

"I'm fine," she said automatically, though the words felt hollow.

Amanda gave her a pointed look. "You're not. And that's okay. But you need to start being honest about it—with yourself, if no one else."

The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Hayden's jaw clenched as she stared at the table, her thoughts racing. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to talk about her feelings, or her struggles, or any of the things Amanda seemed to think she needed to unpack. She just wanted to get her diploma, get out of this mess, and move on.

Finally, she muttered, "Fine. Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

Amanda nodded, her expression softening into a faint smile. "Good."

The sound of voices carried into the room, and both women turned to see Daniel and Sam walking in mid-conversation. Daniel was the first to spot Hayden, his step faltering.

Sam, on the other hand, froze entirely. Her eyes darted from Hayden to Amanda, then back to Hayden. "What the hell is she doing here?"

Hayden didn't react, her face a perfect mask of indifference. She simply leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as her gaze flicked to Sam, her expression cool and unbothered.

"You've got to be kidding me," Sam muttered, turning to Amanda. "Why is she here?"

"She's here because she's taking steps to make things right," Amanda said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Sam scoffed, shaking her head. "She doesn't deserve—"

"Sam," Daniel interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder. His voice was calm but firm, his gaze fixed on Hayden. "Let's hear her out."

Hayden didn't move, didn't flinch under Daniel's scrutiny. Her dark eyes locked with his, steady and unyielding.

"I'm not here to make make a mess," Hayden said finally, her voice low and deliberate. "I just need your signature. Then I'll be out of your hair."

The room was thick with tension, but Hayden remained unfazed. Even as Sam glared daggers at her, even as Daniel's jaw tightened, Hayden didn't break. She just sat there, calm and composed, as if the weight of their judgment didn't matter.

And maybe it didn't. She wasn't here for their approval. She was here to do what she had to do—and nothing more.

—

The dojo was silent except for the sharp sounds of Hayden's fists striking the heavy bag. Her knuckles were already raw, blood seeping through the tape, but she didn't care. She pushed harder, throwing punch after punch, her breath ragged and uneven. Sweat dripped down her face, her tank top clinging to her skin, but she didn't slow down. She couldn't.

Her frustration clawed at her like a caged animal. Every strike was a release, every kick a desperate attempt to regain control of the chaos in her mind. The unfairness of it all—the groveling, the endless hoops she had to jump through just to survive, the LaRussos lording over her life—she felt like she was suffocating under the weight of it.

She pivoted, her foot snapping into the bag with enough force to make it swing violently. Her body screamed in protest, her muscles on the verge of giving out, but she gritted her teeth and kept going. She didn't care if she collapsed. She didn't care if her body broke down. At least the pain was something she could control.

"Hayden."

The voice was calm, almost too calm, cutting through the sound of her strikes like a knife. She didn't stop.

"Hayden." This time it was sharper, with an edge that made her pause mid-strike. She turned, panting, to see Terry Silver leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"What?" she snapped, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

He pushed off the wall, walking toward her with the measured precision that always made her uneasy. "You're pushing yourself too hard," he said simply, his tone calm but firm.

"I'm fine," she shot back, her voice dripping with defiance. "I need to be ready."

"For what?" he asked, arching a brow. "To run yourself into the ground before the All Valley?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not running myself into the ground. I'm training. You're the one who said to put in the work."

Silver smirked faintly, tilting his head. "I did. But training isn't about throwing yourself at a bag until your body gives out. It's about precision, discipline, strategy. Right now, you're just burning yourself out."

She glared at him, her fists clenching at her sides. "I don't have time to waste. I need to be better. Stronger. Faster. I need to win."

Silver's smirk faded, his expression hardening. "And what makes you think you're capable of winning?"

The words hit her like a blow to the chest. She stared at him, her jaw tightening, but he didn't stop.

"Do you even know what you're fighting for?" he continued, his voice low and cutting. "Is it the title? The validation? Proving something to yourself? Or is it just blind rage that's driving you forward?"

Hayden felt her chest tighten, her breathing shallow as his words sunk in. She didn't answer.

Silver took a step closer, his eyes sharp and calculating. "You want to be the best? Fine. But here's the reality—there will be two champions this year. A boys' division and a girls' division. You won't be fighting Miguel. You won't be fighting Robby or Hawk or anyone else you're imagining standing across from you in that ring."

Her heart sank, the frustration bubbling up to the surface. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, his tone cool. "The All Valley board decided to separate the divisions. A male champion, a female champion. Which means you're not competing against them—you're competing against other girls. And if you want my opinion?" He paused, his gaze cutting into her like a blade. "I'm not sure you have what it takes to be champion, male or female, with the way you're going."

She blinked, his words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. "I've been working—"

"You've been working hard, yes," he interrupted, stepping closer. "But hard work isn't enough. You think you can brute force your way to victory? That grit alone is going to get you there?" He shook his head, almost pityingly. "Champions don't just fight hard. They fight smart. They adapt, they think, and they know exactly who they are when they step into that ring. Do you?"

Hayden's hands trembled at her sides, the weight of his words crushing her. She wanted to argue, to fight back, but she couldn't. Because deep down, she didn't know the answer.

Silver took a step back, his tone softening slightly. "You have potential, Hayden. But potential means nothing if you don't learn how to channel it. So figure it out. Figure out who you are and what you're fighting for. Because if you don't, all this work you're putting in? It's going to mean nothing."

He turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her chest heaving, her mind racing.

As the door to his office closed behind him, Hayden's knees gave out, and she sank to the floor, her back against the wall. Her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms as she stared blankly ahead.

She'd been so sure, so determined to push through, but now... now she wasn't so sure of anything.

—

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzzed faintly, blending with the occasional clatter of bottles being shelved in the distance. Hayden moved silently through the aisles, her expression unreadable as she tossed bags of chips and bottles of soda into the basket. Robby trailed behind, eyeing the selection of candy bars with much more enthusiasm.

"You want Snickers or Milky Way?" he asked, holding up both options for her opinion.

Hayden didn't glance over. "Doesn't matter," she replied flatly, grabbing a bottle of Coke and inspecting the label as if it might tell her something new.

"Snickers, then." Robby dropped the candy into the basket and gave her a sidelong look. "You've been quiet. Like, even quieter than usual. What's up?"

"Nothing," she said, her voice clipped. Her hand lingered on a bag of pretzels before she threw it into the basket. "Just tired."

Robby tilted his head, unconvinced. "Right. Tired." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "You sure?"

Hayden nodded, looking down at the assortments of sodas.

But the moment was shattered when a voice called out from behind them. "Robby."

Both teens turned, Robby's face immediately darkening when he saw Daniel LaRusso standing there. Hayden's jaw tightened, but she said nothing, her gaze fixed on the ground as she shifted her weight.

"Of course," Robby muttered under his breath. "Here we go."

Daniel held up a hand, his expression unreadable. "I just need a minute."

Robby's lips curved into a sharp, humorless smile. "Oh I can save you that minute. You're here because you realized you're training a bunch of wimps and you need a male champion, right?"

Mr. LaRusso sighed, shaking his head and trailing his gaze over to Hayden. After everything that happened, he'd hoped that Robby wouldn't be so naive as to fall into Cobra Lai's trap. The manipulation and deception.

Least of all, he hoped that Hayden would be there to bring him back down to earth. Now, they were both sucked in. And so far gone.

Robby continued. "Let me guess, your sales pitch is, 'I'm here to rescue you, this isn't who you are Robby. I can help. Blah blah blah blah blah.'"

"I've said all that before. It's time to break the pattern." Daniel sucked in a deep breath, taking a step forward, "I heard what you guys did to Eli." He looked between the two teens.

His gaze shifted briefly to Hayden, and something flickered in his expression—something close to disappointment.

"Just gave him what he deserved." Hayden shrugged, giving a bored expression.

"I'm not here to lecture you," he said evenly, turning his attention back to Robby. "I'm here to tell you what's going to happen if you keep going down this road."

Hayden's brow furrowed slightly, but she remained silent, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against a nearby shelf.

"Terry Silver showed up out of nowhere, right? That's what he does. He did the same thing to me," Daniel began, his tone dropping into something more urgent. "He'll seem decent enough at first. Show you some moves, make you feel powerful. But it's a trap. He'll worm his way in, chip away at you, and push you past your limits."

Hayden swallowed hard, looking off to the side. Memories of Silver's ruthless training came flooding back—the bruises, the humiliation, the constant sense of inadequacy he used to fuel her.

"You'll be stronger than you ever thought possible," Daniel continued. "But Silver won't stop there. One day, you'll find yourself with blood on your hands, and you'll hope it's not too late to change."

Hayden clenched her jaw, shutting her eyes briefly against the image his words conjured. A version of herself so far gone she couldn't recognize it.

She didn't see Terry Silver approach until his voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"They're not interested, Mr. LaRusso."

Hayden's eyes snapped open as she looked up, startled. Robby turned sharply, his posture stiffening as Silver stepped into the light.

Hayden forced her expression into something neutral, stoic, but it was too late. Silver's sharp gaze flickered over her, lingering just a moment too long. He'd seen it—the doubt.

"New equipment just got in," Silver said casually, his tone light but his eyes cold as they locked onto Hayden and Robby. "Why don't you go check it out?"

The two teens nodded silently, stepping past Daniel without a word.

Robby didn't hesitate, brushing past Daniel with a shrug. "Later," he muttered, his tone dismissive.

Hayden didn't make it far before Daniel's hand gently landed on her shoulder, stopping her. She turned slowly, her guarded expression faltering when he handed her a manila folder.

"What's this?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

Daniel gave her a small, reassuring smile. "That's everything you need to go back to school."

Her lips parted in surprise as she flipped through the papers. Sure enough, both Daniel's and Amanda's signatures were scrawled across every dotted line.

"Really?" she asked softly. "You guys are letting me?"

"You have Sam to thank," Daniel said with a nod. "She insisted we sign off on it."

Hayden swallowed hard, biting back a smile. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible as she avoided the burning stares of Silver and Robby.

"And Hayden?" Daniel added, stopping her before she could leave.

She looked up again, her guarded expression slipping into something softer.

"You don't have to work with scammers like Tom Cole. You always have a home at LaRusso Auto." His sincerity cut through her like a knife.

Hayden nodded, unable to say much else. The guilt churned in her stomach. She'd quit Cole's dealership almost as quickly as she'd started, but the memory of using it to hurt Daniel lingered bitterly.

She offered him the smallest smile before stepping outside, flipping through the papers as she walked.

—

The loud chatter of students filled the air as Hayden made her way through the crowded hallway, clutching the strap of her backpack tightly. It felt strange being back—surreal, even. The fluorescent lights were too bright, the voices too loud, and the stares... well, those were the worst part.

She kept her head down, her stoic mask firmly in place as she navigated through the sea of students. A few kids whispered as she passed, but she ignored them.

"Hey, you're the Cobra Kai chick, right?" someone called out, but she didn't bother turning to look.

It wasn't until she reached her locker and started fumbling with the combination that she let out a quiet breath.

"Hayden."

She froze, the voice immediately recognizable. Slowly, she turned her head to see Sam LaRusso standing a few feet away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Sam," Hayden said evenly, forcing her voice to stay calm.

The two girls stared at each other, the tension thick between them. Sam's expression was unreadable, but there was a sharpness in her eyes that Hayden couldn't ignore.

"Heard you're the one to thank for letting me come back. So, thank—" Hayden started, but was cut off before she could even finish.

Sam took a step closer, her voice lowering. "Save it. I don't know what kinda game you're playing at, but I'm not buying it."

Hayden clenched her jaw, the words hitting harder than she expected.

"You're not in control here. I am. You may have gotten my parents to fall for your bullshit," Sam shot back, her eyes narrowing. "But I don't. So, if you so much as look at me funny—"

Hayden blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of her words. "You'll what? Fight me? We saw how it turned out last time, right?"

Sam sighed, some of the sharpness fading from her tone. "Don't try me. I will kick your ass for a third time."

Hayden glared at her, her voice dropping to a low growl. "I think that concussion fucked with your head if that's how you remember things."

"I remember things just fine, thank you. Watch yourself, bitch."

Hayden looked away, her jaw clenching. She felt her fingernails dig into her palms, sucking in a breath. She was holding herself back as best as she could.

Before she could respond, the bell rang, and the hallway began to clear as students rushed to their classes.

Sam stepped back, her expression still guarded. "I'll see you at the All Valley."

"Looking forward to it," Hayden shot back, stalking off before she made a decision she'd regret.

She didn't kill herself during training all those days for nothing. And she was sure gonna put those skills to use at the All Valley.

authors note.
Seeeee? writing like a mad man when i should probably be doing homework