He is.

Why was he doing this? This was completely unlike him!

And yet, he'd stood up. And he could feel her smile. And he could feel his heart growing steady, even as pairs of eyes focused on him across the room.

It felt exhilarating. And any fear in his soul was swept under the rug, even as he walked towards the bulky man, even as said man looked towards him, his equal in height but most definitely not in strength.

"What is it now, you emo fuck? You wanna join his bitch ass on the ground?"

Marty was looking towards Emil with something that was so rare on the overconfident twit's eyes. A semblance of fear, and excitement. Blood had been drawn from his nose, and he held his, sitting on the edge of the bench he'd been pummeled against.

"Emil, it's alright man, don't get beat up over me."

Emil stopped, arm's length away from the aggressor, who looked at him with eyes that could tear apart stone.

"Yeah, you heard the guy. Don't get beat up."

Emil grit his teeth.