My Nerdy Alpha's True Masks

"Let her go?" Jax repeated Finnick’s words, his mocking tone growing louder as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous joke of the century. He let out a dry, hollow laugh, glancing around the room to gather support from the students who were already starting to whisper.

"You hear that, Indy? This piece of trash is trying to play the hero for you," Jax said, his voice jumping an octave, dripping with deliberate hatred and serving as a sharp warning to Finnick for daring to speak up.

Jax stepped forward, pressing his chest directly against Finnick’s. He intentionally puffed out his athletic frame to intimidate the man standing before him. His left hand moved in a flash, grabbing the collar of Finnick’s neat shirt and yanking it upward until the bespectacled boy was forced onto his tiptoes.

"Listen here, you pathetic nerd," Jax hissed right in Finnick’s face. "In this school, you’re nothing but the dirt stuck to the bottom of my shoe. You don’t have the right to speak, let alone have the balls to boss me around. You know what happens to cockroaches that crawl out in front of me? I crush them until they’re nothing," he sneered.

"Jax, let go! That hurts, you idiot!" Indiana groaned, trying to jerk her hand away, but Jax only pulled her harder until she collided with the side of a desk.

"Shut up, Indy! I’m busy giving your new pet a lesson," Jax barked without looking back. His eyes, hungry for dominance, returned to Finnick. "Why are you so quiet now? Where’d that nerve go? You gonna cry? Or are you gonna run and tattle to Indy’s mommy so she can protect you?" he mocked.

Finnick didn’t move—not even when Jax’s spit landed on his cheek. But Indiana, standing so close, could feel a shift in the atmosphere. The air around Finnick seemed to turn ice-cold, like the heavy pressure before a blizzard hits. She saw Finnick’s jaw tighten, and behind those boring, thick lenses, his blue eyes were now as dark as the deepest ocean.

"Let. Her. Go. Now." Finnick repeated. His voice wasn’t loud, but it vibrated with an authority so heavy it made the students at the neighboring tables shiver for no apparent reason.

"You son of a—! You still think you can challenge me?!" Jax finally lost it. He swung a powerful right hook, aiming directly for Finnick’s jaw.

Thwack!

The sound of the impact was solid, but it didn’t sound like a fist hitting flesh. Indiana’s eyes widened. Finnick had raised his right hand in a movement nearly impossible for the eye to track, catching Jax’s fist in his open palm.

Jax froze. He tried to pull his hand back, but Finnick’s grip was like a steel vise locking his knuckles in place. Finnick’s face remained as expressionless as a stone slab, but the sheer strength he channeled through that grip made the color drain from Jax’s face.

"You... you’re actually fighting back, you bastard?" Jax’s voice began to tremble between rage and the pain radiating up his arm. He cursed internally because his fist felt shattered, as if he had punched a reinforced steel wall.

"I said get out, Jax. Before I forget that we’re on school grounds," Finnick hissed. Then, with a shove that looked effortless but was incredibly powerful, Finnick pushed against Jax’s chest.

Jax’s body was hurled backward, slamming into a bookshelf that collapsed and sent books raining down on him. The thunderous crash echoed through the library, prompting the librarian to stand up and scream at them to be quiet.

"You’re dead! Just wait until tomorrow! I’ll make sure you don’t have a face left to show at this school, you nerd!" Jax threatened, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He glared at Indiana with a mix of shame and hatred before turning around and kicking a bookshelf near the exit to vent his rage.

Indiana’s jaw dropped; she couldn’t process what she had just witnessed. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Finnick slowly sit back down, returning to his typing with an uncanny level of calm. It was as if absolutely nothing had happened.

What the actual f—? she cursed silently.

***

After the last period that afternoon, the sky turned a bruised, dark gray. Indiana felt restless the entire way to the motorcycle lot. All day, her mind had been stuck on the image of Finnick’s expression. How could the man she had always considered weak possess that kind of power?

As she was thinking about him, she saw Finnick walking calmly down a narrow alleyway next to the outer parking lot—a shortcut that was usually deserted. Her curiosity won out; she left her bike behind and tried to follow him.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going, you piece of trash?!" someone shouted loudly.

Finnick stopped. In front of him stood Jax, wearing a bloodthirsty smirk. Behind him were four thugs in modified school uniforms; Indiana knew them as a gang of hired muscle usually brought in for dirty work. One of them, a guy with a buzz cut and a scar over his eyebrow, was twirling a wooden bat in his hand.

"You felt real tough in the library because of the teachers, didn't you?" Jax spat to the side, his eyes full of vengeance. "Now I brought my friends. They want to see if your hands are still that strong after we break them one by one".

The massive thug next to Jax took a step forward. "This is the nerd you were talking about, Jax? This twiggy kid? I could kill him with one hit. You lost to a kid like this? That’s embarrassing," the thug spat near Jax’s shoe.

Jax didn't dare talk back.

Finnick let out a long sigh, as if he’d just been asked to solve a boring math problem. He showed no sign of fear. Slowly, he removed his thick glasses, folded them carefully, and tucked them into his inner shirt pocket.

"I’m really not in the mood for a workout this afternoon," Finnick murmured, his voice sounding completely different.

"Talk all you want, you're dead!" The thug with the bat lunged forward.

Finnick moved. Instead of retreating, he lunged forward, closing the distance into the opponent's guard. His movements were agile and fluid—not like someone in a brawl, but like a predator dancing. As the wooden bat swung toward his head, Finnick simply tilted his head a few inches to avoid it, with perfect precision. Wasting no time, he delivered a short, sharp punch to the man's solar plexus.

The massive man collapsed instantly, vomiting on the asphalt in a single strike.

The other three froze for a second before charging all at once. The narrow alley suddenly erupted with the sounds of physical impact and groans of pain. Finnick moved like a black shadow in the twilight of the alley. He parried kicks, twisted arms until a sickening crack echoed, and delivered precise strikes to pressure points.

Indiana, who had been following at a distance out of anxiety, hid behind the alley wall. Her eyes went wide with disbelief. She saw Finnick—the "loser" who always kept his head down in class, the person she thought was just an NPC—systematically taking down four thugs at once without breaking a single drop of sweat.

He was a completely different person.

When only a trembling Jax was left standing, Finnick walked toward him. The aura he projected was now so dominant, so crushing, that Jax felt like the oxygen was being sucked out of the air.

"Wh... what are you? Are you a demon?!" Jax whispered in terror, backing up until his spine hit the cold brick wall.

Finnick grabbed Jax’s throat with one hand, lifting him until Jax was dangling on his tiptoes. Even in the shadows of the alley, Indiana could see Finnick’s eyes glowing a bright, electric blue, reminding her of the lightning-flash in a wolf’s eyes at midnight.

"Remember this well, Jax," Finnick’s voice was low, nearly a guttural growl that vibrated through bone. "If you ever touch Indiana again, or even mention her name with your filthy mouth... I’ll make sure you don't have a tongue left to speak with. Understand?"

Jax could only nod frantically, his face turning blue from lack of air. Finnick dropped him, and Jax collapsed to the ground, shaking violently as if he had just come face-to-face with a monster.

***

The next morning in the high school’s main corridor.

Indiana walked with hesitant steps. ВВShe was intentionally wearing her leather jacket to hide her anxiety. She hadn't slept all night, the scene in the alley playing on loop in her mind. Who was Finnick, really?

As she passed the lockers, she saw a very unusual sight. Jax, Brock, and Rhett were huddled together. However, their "kings of the school" aura had completely vanished. Jax had a large bandage on his forehead, his arm was in a sling, and his face was as pale as if he’d just seen a ghost.

"Jax!" Indiana called out.

Jax flinched so hard he nearly dropped his books. The moment he saw Indiana approaching, his eyes widened in terror. He didn't greet her with a hug like usual; instead, he backed away several steps.

"Indy... please, just stay away from me!" Jax yelled, his voice raspy and stuttering.

"Wait, why? Why are you all beat up? Who dared to lay a hand on my boyfriend?" Indiana asked, trying to test Jax’s honesty. She reached out to touch his forehead, but Jax flinched away in a panic, as if Indiana’s hand were a scorching flame.

"It’s nothing! I... I fell! Yeah, we all fell down the stairs together! Look, I gotta go, don't call me anymore!" Jax and his crew immediately bolted, leaving Indiana standing bewildered in the middle of the hallway.

"Fell down the stairs together? That is the least creative lie ever," Indiana muttered.

But suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. There was a powerful presence behind her. Indiana turned slowly, her heart pounding.

Standing there, about fifteen feet behind her, was Finnick Axton. He looked like the usual Finnick, with his neat shirt buttoned all the way up and thick glasses slipping slightly down his nose, clutching a math reference book the size of a pillow. He still looked incredibly boring and harmless.

However, Indiana caught a split-second moment before Finnick realized she was there. She saw Finnick’s eyes—sharp, cold, and full of a deadly threat—guarding the back of the retreating Jax. It was the gaze of a predator monitoring its prey to ensure it stayed on the path he’d set.

The moment he noticed Indiana turn around, Finnick instantly adjusted his expression. His face went back to being flat, vacant, and seemingly indifferent to the world.

Indiana stood in silence, her tongue tied.

So yesterday wasn't just my imagination. This NPC really did it. Jax was scared to death just seeing him behind me.

"Finnick?" Indiana called out softly.

Finnick pushed his glasses up with his middle finger—a stiff, habitual movement. "The bell rings in three minutes, Indiana. Don’t forget, we have our math session during lunch. Don't be late again," he warned in a flat tone.

Finnick then turned and walked calmly toward class, leaving Indiana still frozen in place.

Mr. NPC, you’ve definitely caught my attention... Indiana thought to herself with a hidden smirk.