Finding his way around the maze of suburbia, Ethan made his way to the bus station, reaching it he propped himself onto the blue plastic poles protruding from the ground to hold the small structure upwards, as he flickered through a playlist on his MP3 player awaiting when the number 2 bus would arrive to take him to his school, Hookshire High.
Hookshire was a small town with a population just over 70,000, during a the Industrial revolution the town's main source of business was fishing in the canals that burrowed through the town resembling muddy earthworms. To support this fishing industry, several shops in the town sold hooks to fishers.
Hence the town became infamous as being covered in hooks, hence Hook became part of the town's name. Slap a very English "Shire" to the end of Hook and there you had it. Hookshire was one of the few urban outposts of England that still had a tiny amount of English culture surviving within it. It was not yet completely a clone of the European Empire's dull grey urban areas.
Yet it wasn't far off.
As Ethan looked up at the gloomy grey sky, his thoughts drifted to that of how entertaining the school day would be to clear his growing boredom, he hadn't much hope.
Unbeknownst to him, he was being reeled out and prepared for the slaughter just like the thousands of fish had in this town throughout the years.
The Number 2 bus finally screeched to a halt, as Ethan gave his driver a flash of his pass, he looked to his left deciding today whether he should have sat by the businessman, the redhead woman with acne, or behind the two gossipy old woman. He decided to sit by the old woman without really thinking about it.
Ethan switched off his earphones for a second as he shuffled his school bag onto his lap, as he did he inspected his appearance in his reflection on the bus window. He stood at 6 foot 1 exactly with lime eyes, at 16 years of age he was typical teenager with a sullen face as he gazed back at his morning self in his reflection.
Faint dots of black stubble coated the lower half of his jaw, and then came his pride, his coal black hair, Ethan always went through extra effort every day to ensure that his naturally spiky hair stood on edge, it gave him an appearance of the rocker he wanted to be and reinforced his masculinity. Yet he had to admit he was pretty vain, as no guy would spend hours trying to get their hair to stand on end.
He was vain about his looks, his sulky nature and this were probably his biggest flaws.
His attention was drawn to the old woman in front of him whose voices were harsh and fast.
"It's been renewed again..."
"Oh Doris, It's nothing to worry about..."
"My grandson goes to Hookshire High and there's every risk he could end up on that vile show"
From gazing at the nearby cover a newspaper, Ethan had figured that the spin off death-match show, "Class Killers" was being renewed with promised "changes" yet Ethan knew that Class Killers wouldn't not draw interest, everyone was hooked on solider slaughter.
The old woman in front of him summarised his thoughts.
"Doris, you don't worry about him. There's a million schools in this country, the chances of him being chosen are so low there virtually none-existent my dear"
Oh how wrong she was.