"Wait, why am I the Pink Ranger?" Jay asked suddenly, jabbing his thumb into his chest.
Joe grinned like he'd been waiting for that question. "Come on, man. You know Max is obsessed with that old show, what was it called? Bower Bangers? No, wait, Bower Rangers? Ugh, that sounds wrong…"
He scrunched up his face and shook his head. "Whatever. You get what I'm saying. There were only so many colors, and you, my friend, are Pink. Because deep down, you're a big softie."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "I've seen that show. And aren't the Pink and Yellow Rangers, like… always girls?"
Joe shrugged. "And? They're just colors, man."
"But, "
"And even if they are girls," Joe cut in, "you just told us about your little sister. I bet Pink was her favorite. So, being the Pink Ranger? That just means you're the one she'd look up to. Her hero."
Jay blinked.
The logic was weirdly solid. Weird… but kind of sweet.
"Ease up," Max said. "You're putting too much pressure on him."
He turned to Jay, his voice softer now. "I told you, I understand why you fight. And I've got a way to fix your problem."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something small and square, a card. Not like the others he usually passed out. This one was different. It wasn't sleek or flashy. It was a rough beige color, with just one name embossed into the surface like a brand:
Warma.
Max slid it across the table like it weighed a hundred pounds.
"Send all your sister's hospital bills to this guy. He'll handle them. Doesn't matter what it is, medications, specialists, equipment, house repairs, send everything. You don't have to live like this anymore, Jay."
Jay stared at the card, unmoving.
"I'm serious," Max said. "No strings. I'm not going to sit here and watch a friend suffer if I can do something about it. I'm paying for it. For as long as I can. And you don't have to lift a finger. This isn't a loan. It's yours."
He paused.
"I told you I'd pay you back for saving me that day. This is how I do that. This, " he tapped the card ", this is your reward. Spend it however you want."
Jay didn't speak right away. He didn't even blink. His throat tightened like a rope was being pulled around it, but he swallowed hard and forced the lump back down.
"No," he said finally. "I mean, yes, I'll take it. I'll take the help. Pink, Yellow, whatever Ranger you want me to be, I'll be there."
He looked Max in the eye.
"I meant what I said. I'll help you with whatever you need. And you don't need to feel guilty for even a second. Because I never would've had this chance without you. You didn't just give me a card. You gave me hope."
He paused, and his voice cracked again.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
Jay kept saying it over and over again until the school bell finally rang, pulling them back to reality. He barely noticed he was being ushered back to class. He didn't care. None of them had eaten lunch that day, but it didn't matter.
The day had already fed something deeper than food.
Later that afternoon, Max sat at his desk, pretending to listen to the final class of the day.
His mind was somewhere else entirely.
It felt good, back then… fighting with my friends by my side, he thought. Back when we were just a bunch of kids in the White Tigers trying to make a name for ourselves.
But somewhere along the way, we stopped fighting for each other, and started fighting for power.
We wanted more. More territory. More influence. More control.
And in chasing all of that… we lost what made us strong in the first place.
He stared out the window, half-seeing the clouds drift by.
Now that I look back… the arguments, the splits, the betrayals, it was always about growth. Expansion. Control.
Not about us anymore.
His fingers curled into a loose fist.
We hurt a lot of people in the process. The White Tigers… we were strong, but we were never kind.
But this? Helping Jay? It's different. It feels good. Right.
For me, it's nothing. For him, it's his entire world.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling now.
And somehow, without trying… I'm building something better this time. A real team. A family. Loyal people who'd follow me not out of fear, but choice.
After school, Max and Joe met up at the gates. Jay joined them soon after, and for the first time in a long time, the three of them were heading to the gym together, just like old times.
As they walked toward the Bloodline Gym, Max noticed something odd.
Several students were wearing branded hoodies and jackets, emblazoned with the Bloodline logo.
Jay noticed too. "Wait… I've never seen them at the gym before. Do they even go?"
"You're right. They don't," Max said, smirking. "Turns out the clothes have become a fashion thing. Seaton's been pushing the brand outside school, and it's catching on."
Joe raised a brow. "Isn't that exactly what you didn't want?"
Jay nodded. "Yeah… won't people get confused about who's actually in the gym and who's just wearing the gear for style?"
Max shrugged. "Nope. This is perfect. If we start a trend, we build hype. And if we build hype… we build profit."
He grinned to himself, the wheels already spinning.
"I was trying to build something solid from the ground up, and now it might actually pay off."
Jay just shook his head.
He thought Max was crazy sometimes. The guy had more money than he could ever spend in five lifetimes. So why was he still trying to make more?
But somehow… it was working.
Max's phone buzzed.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen.
[Big job for you tomorrow. Be ready.]
, The Rejected Corps
Max swore under his breath.
Crap. Not now.
Tomorrow was the weekend.
And weekends meant Aron.
Wherever Max went, Aron would be with him. No excuses. No skipping.
And now the Rejected Corps was handing him a mission?
How the hell am I supposed to pull this off, with him following me around?