Chapter Text
The pages of Anthony’s journal were filled with scratchy pen marks and barely contained frustration. His hands gripped the pen tightly, pressing hard against the paper as if each word needed to be carved in with intensity. He hesitated, glancing out his window to make sure no one was watching. He hated talking about this—let alone writing about it—but if he didn't get it down, he felt like he’d explode.
“Journal entry number... whatever.”
He didn’t care. Dates and entries blurred together, and right now, that was the least of his worries. This one was all about him. Kenny Payne. The Cobra Kai poster boy. The guy who had turned Anthony’s life into a living nightmare. He took a breath, trying to pick the right words, to control the storm in his mind.
“It's like, every time I think I can breathe again, he shows up," Anthony wrote, his handwriting angry, the lines almost jagged. "He wasn't always like this. We used to just… I don't know, exist around each other. But then something happened, and he changed.”
He paused, chewing the cap of his pen. It was true—he could still remember a time when Kenny was just this quiet kid who played video games, nothing special. A little dorky, maybe. Then Cobra Kai found him, and Kenny transformed. Maybe it was the dojo, or maybe he had all that anger buried inside, just waiting to come out. Either way, it was Anthony who got the brunt of it.
“I swear, it's like he wants me to be miserable,” Anthony continued, feeling his pulse quicken. “It’s not just the names he calls me or the stupid pranks. He gets in my head. I’ll be sitting in class, minding my own business, and I’ll feel him staring me down, like he’s daring me to even breathe wrong.”
Memories of the recent school year filled his mind: Kenny waiting in the hallway, the quick shoves against his locker, the stinging remarks, all of it. Anthony had tried standing up to him once, maybe twice, but every time he did, Kenny had his Cobra Kai “friends” behind him, smirking, ready to back him up. It felt like they were all in on it, like his misery was a show they enjoyed watching.
“I just don’t get it,” he wrote, pressing down harder. “How does someone change that fast? How did he go from this quiet kid to… I don’t even know what to call him. A bully? Yeah, but worse. It’s like he’s got something to prove. To himself. To me. To everyone.”
He shut his journal, feeling a strange mix of anger and relief. Writing helped, but it didn’t fix anything. Kenny was still out there, waiting for him at school, with that cocky smirk on his face and that ruthless Cobra Kai edge in his eyes. But at least, for now, he could close the journal and breathe.