found you

This started a month ago. On a typical school day, Marilyn walked to his locker to grab his books for the next class. Opening the door, he saw familiar tattered stickers on the inside of the door, photos glued to the walls, and a small mess. And among all this there was one thing that attracted attention the most. - What the fuck? - he hissed under his breath, picking up some strange envelope. The design was simple, clean white paper with no details. Looking around and making sure that no one was paying attention, he put the envelope in his hoodie pocket and took the things he needed, slamming the locker. There were still a few minutes left before the end of the break, and even despite this, Marilyn was too consumed by curiosity for not to go to a deserted place and find out the contents of the letter. ...And it turned out to be a love letter. And, damn it, anonymous. He was in a slight shock, and the more he read, the less he understood whether to laugh or cry. At the same time with flattery and embarrassment, he kept wondering who even thought of presenting it this way, because social networks could become a replacement for such an old-fashioned way, even if his fan was shy enough to meet him. Maybe it was some kind of joke... Feeling like the main character of the most clichéd Japanese plot and still holding the ill-fated letter in his hands, he almost missed the ringing bell, swore and quickly put it in his backpack, rushing to class. But he still couldn't concentrate on it, devoured by thoughts of a strange admirer. At the evening, sitting in his computer chair and slowly spinning on it, Marilyn could definitely draw several conclusions. First of all, his fan is a guy. The address to oneself was in the masculine gender, so he could only hope that this was not a quirk of some girl. Because, at least as he thinks, he himself is not even bisexual, and that means either he or his admirer was incredibly lucky in that they had the same sexuality. Secondly, it was fucking weird. Why a letter? When did he even manage to draw it to his locker? Maybe someone is just making fun of him this way? If so, then as soon as Marilyn found out, he would have killed this joker, because this whole story has already frayed his nerves considerably. And, as it turned out, not the last time. With each new envelope that regularly appeared in his locker every morning, he became more and more nervous and tormented himself with questions. The content of the letter usually contained a story about his admirer's past day without details, about his mood, and most of it was about how he liked Marilyn and how he wanted to spend time with him. But he didn't disclose the reasons why he couldn't. Every time Marylin read this, his face flushed red, indignation bubbled inside along with embarrassment, but he could not deny that it was pleasant. In such a relaxed, yet charming and sweet manner, daily texts became an integral part of his every day. Marilyn was too used to them. So his heart sank when one day he found nothing. And at the next break. And at lunchtime. Until the end of the day. This gave him no rest. Maybe he just didn't find the right moment to draw the letter? But before it always worked out... Did he really stop liking him or did he give up this idea? But nothing foreshadowed trouble. The last letter contained absolutely no hints or differences from previous ones. There was only one answer: something happened. Along with his feelings, giving way to anger at the fact that some idiot was too fucking in need to write him stupid envelopes that now tormenting him without a moment of peace, and that in general this is utter stupidity, Marilyn did not notice one obvious thing. There is a loud rumor around the school that one student was hospitalized as a result of the shooting.