Monday morning came way too fast.
Donovan stood in the garage, holding a cup of juice and staring at the black Bentley. It was a gorgeous car, sure. But rolling up to high school math class in a luxury yacht just felt weird.
"Your dad buys cars for board meetings," a voice chuckled from the doorway.
Donovan turned. His grandfather, Arthur Blackwood, was leaning against the wall with his morning coffee, looking highly amused.
"I buy cars for the street," Arthur said, tossing a black key fob through the air.
Donovan caught it.
"Delivery just arrived out front," Arthur smirked. "Happy late sixteenth birthday, kid. Try not to scratch the paint."
Donovan walked out to the driveway and stopped dead in his tracks.
Sitting in the morning sun was pure street royalty: a 1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34.
Painted in iconic Bayside Blue, it looked aggressive, loud, and completely perfect. It wasn't a billionaire's toy; it was a teenager's absolute dream.
Donovan couldn't stop grinning. "Thanks, Grandpa."
"Just don't tell your mom," Arthur waved him off, heading back inside.
Thirty minutes later, the deep roar of the Skyline's engine turned heads in the Oakridge Academy parking lot.
Donovan barely had time to put it in park before he heard the yelling.
"Dude! No way!" Chris Evans shouted, practically sprinting across the asphalt with Jake Gyllenhaal right behind him.
Chris hovered his hands over the hood like it was a holy artifact. "Donnie, is this an R34? How did you even get this?"
"My grandpa knows a guy," Donovan laughed, grabbing his backpack.
"It's Godzilla," Jake whispered, staring at the taillights. "You haven't even walked into the building yet and you already won the day."
School was a weird mix of normal and crazy.
Sure, people stared in the hallways. He was Anakin Skywalker, after all. Girls passed him notes, and teachers sometimes stuttered when they called roll.
But by lunchtime, all the Hollywood drama faded away. Out on the sunny basketball courts, he was just Donnie again.
He caught a pass from Chris, crossed over a senior defender, and stepped back behind the line. The ball left his hands and hit a clean three-pointer. *Swish.* "That's game!" Jake yelled, chest-bumping Donovan. "Gyllenhaal and Blackwood run this court!"
"You literally scored zero points, man," Chris laughed from the sidelines, tossing them some water bottles. "Sit down."
The afternoon dragged on. By last period, AP History was putting everyone to sleep.
Donovan sat in the back row near the window. Chris sat in the desk right in front of him, casually leaning back just enough to block the teacher's line of sight. It was a flawless, unspoken routine.
Safe behind his human shield, Donovan opened his notebook.
While the teacher talked about coal factories, Donovan's pen flew across the paper. He spent the entire hour sketching the intricate, oversized sword for *Bleach*, locking down the design for his new manga.
When the final bell finally rang, the three of them bolted.
They took the Skyline and hit a local drive-thru. They spent the next hour just cruising around L.A. with the windows down, blasting rock music and eating double cheeseburgers in the car.
"Take a left here," Donovan said suddenly, pointing to a small strip mall.
He parked outside a local comic book shop. The bell jingled as they walked inside. The place smelled like old paper and floor wax.
Donovan pulled his baseball cap low, casually walking toward the back aisles while Jake went to look at the new X-Men issues.
Standing by the manga shelf were two twelve-year-old kids, deeply absorbed in the newest English volumes of *One Piece*.
"I'm telling you, Zoro is gonna wreck that fish-man," the kid in the red shirt said excitedly.
"No way, Luffy is the captain, he has to do it," his friend argued back, pointing at the artwork. "His rubber attacks are getting way cooler."
Donovan stood a few feet away, holding a random Spider-Man comic.
A quiet, genuine smile spread across his face.
Being on movie screens was amazing. Red carpets and millions of dollars were great. But standing anonymously in a comic shop, watching kids genuinely hype over the pirates he drew in his bedroom?
That was the best feeling in the world.
"You buying anything?" Jake asked, walking over with a soda in his hand.
"Nah," Donovan grinned, putting the comic back on the shelf. "Just looking. Let's go."