#but turns out it was the main character all along behind that weird wallpaper...she is just so insane mentally...that she did not realise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queenk00k · 4 years ago

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but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 3)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 2K

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

the one where JJ throws caution to the wind (but when was he ever cautious anyway?)

JJ has woken up in pretty strange locations before. The porch steps of the Chateau, the hull of the HMS Pogue, the Boneyard. Nothing was stranger than waking up on a couch in a Kook’s bedroom, who he’d really only spoken to twice. The couch was surprisingly soft, and JJ finds that he actually had one of the best sleeps he’s had in, well, he can’t quite remember how long.

That doesn’t erase how completely fucking weird it is that he not only went home with a Kook but spent the whole night there.

JJ sits up and is quietly thankful Scarlett appears to have been awake for a while; she’s dressed and perched on the end of her bed in a similar position to the night before. She’s also biting her fingernails, chipping away the black nail polish with her teeth. This brings JJ some comfort – she’s clearly feeling as unsettled as he is.

He clears his throat and Scarlett turns to look at him, smiling cautiously. “Hey,” she says. “You feeling okay?”

JJ nods and stands up. “Yeah, yeah I’m good thanks.”

“Sleep alright?”

“Mmmhmm.”

An awkward pause.

“Listen,” JJ says as he moves towards the door. “I really appreciate what you did for me and all but I gotta go. Honestly, I don’t understand why you let me stay on your couch-”

Scarlett scoffs. “You really think that low of me? You crashed your motorbike in the middle of the night and looked another blow from death. What was I going to do? Leave you on the side of the road?”

JJ is taken aback; he didn’t expect her to answer like that.

“You’re a Kook, I’m a Pogue…you know how it is.” JJ shrugs.

Scarlett rolls her deep brown eyes. “That shit is so stupid. We’re not all that bad.”

JJ opens his mouth to reply something along the lines of “well, in all of my experiences-” but the sound of tires screeching on gravel outside diverts his attention.

Scarlett’s eyes widen and she grabs JJ’s arm tightly. He clenches his jaw and forces himself not to wince; she grabbed one of his darker bruises. He gently removes his arm from her grip and Scarlett looks at him apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just my parents are home. You gotta go, now! Go out the window, quick quick,” Scarlett says as she frantically ushers JJ to the window. JJ’s startled by the sudden change in pace but honestly, he’s pretty thankful for an excuse to get out of there. He’s never felt comfortable around Kooks.

You can hardly blame him.

Scarlett helps JJ push the window up far enough for him to climb through (his arm is feeling pretty busted from the events of the previous night) and he doesn’t hesitate in sticking a leg through to climb out onto the roof.

“Wait, wait,” Scarlett says. “Is that it? You’re just gonna leave?”

JJ looks at her quizzically. “I mean, yeah. What were you hoping for? A goodbye kiss?” He taunts.

Scarlett makes a face at him. JJ can’t tell if it’s disgust or disappointment.

“No. Can I at least give you this?” She reaches into her bedside drawer and pulls out a wad of cash; JJ estimates it to be at least $200.

“And why would you give me that?”

“You seem like you need it,” Scarlett replies, shrugging.

Wrong thing to say.

JJ narrows his eyes and replies, “I’m not your charity case.”

Without giving Scarlett a chance to reply (JJ has an old habit of needing the last word), he scoots out of the window and down the gabled roof of her stupid fucking mansion.

He thinks he’d be content with never seeing her again.

JJ eventually manages to drag himself to his bike and take off towards the Chateau slowly, his bones aching (but not before kicking down the realtor’s sign – if the Camerons have more to worry about then he figured they won’t care if Rose’s frozen smile was kicked in). He’s being more careful on the ride over this time, not willing to repeat the spill from the night before. JJ is lost deep in thought on the way back to the Chateau and before he knows it, he’s riding up the driveway, the bike’s tires kicking up dirt as he skids to a stop.

JJ hates that for a second, he expects John B to emerge on the patio, smiling and holding out a Coors Light, like he’d done so many other times before.

JJ clears his throat and shakes his head, willing the thought of his friend to dissipate. He steps off his bike, wincing, and makes his way up to the house. JJ has every intention of making it all the way inside, but he stops at the steps, lump forming in his throat, and sits down.

Eyes brimming with tears that are close to spilling over, JJ sighs and puts his head in his hands, taking off his cap and throwing it into the dirt.

Where the hell are Pope and Kiara? JJ thinks. It’s been well over a day and a half since he stormed out of the Heyward backyard and gee, fuck him for assuming his friends might come looking for him or something drastic like that.

JJ pulls his outdated iPhone 6 (a hand-me-down from Kiara when hers got updated – pity it didn’t come with her unlimited data plan) with its smashed screen and broken home button.

No texts, no missed calls.

JJ presses the lock-button, so he doesn’t have to look at the Pogues’ smiling faces in his wallpaper, and tries to reason with himself.

Pope told you he was going to be busy with his interview, you shouldn’t be mad at him. That’s fair enough, he warned you.

Nah dude fuck that, he lied to you! He was sneaking off and banging Kiara.

Speaking of Kie, why doesn’t she want to see me? I thought better of her, I thought we were supposed to be best friends.

Her parents have her on lockdown-

When has that stopped her before?

JJ grunts in frustration and picks his hat back up off the ground, jamming it onto his head over his sweaty blonde hair. He clearly wasn’t going to solve anything sitting here.

JJ’s new habit seems to be wandering around the island like a lost boy, as he finds himself walking along the beach, kicking up sand with the toes of his work boots.

He’s not sure what his plan is – maybe he’ll run into Kie or Pope or fuck, literally anyone he knows. What JJ does know is that there’s no chance he’ll run into any Kooks on this side of the island, so at least he won’t have to deal with their pompous asses.

Or so he thinks.

JJ makes it halfway down the stretch of beach before he suddenly hears a sweet, but hoarse voice behind him.

“And here I was thinking I’d never see you again.”

JJ whips his head around and fails to suppress his groan at seeing Scarlett in front of him, dressed this time in a red crop-top and cut-off denim shorts. He resists the urge to run his eyes over her – he’s only human after all, and a teenage boy at that.

“Are you stalking me now?” He asks bitterly but makes no attempt to walk away from her.

Scarlett crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “You wish, Maybank.”

“What are you doing here then?”

Scarlett sighs and sits down on a sand dune, motioning JJ to sit down next to her. He briefly considers telling her she’s dreaming but hey, once again she’s giving him attention and being nice and honestly that’s all he needs right now. Some company that’s not going to make him feel shittier about his life. So, he relents and sits down beside her in the warm sand.

Scarlett leans back on one elbow and moves her sunglasses to the top of her head as she replies, “less chance of running into Kooks here.”

“But they’re your-

“-my people?” Scarlett scoffs. “Hardly. Only thing I have in common with them is our family money, everything else is completely at odds.”

JJ smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It feels nice.

“I’ve heard this story before,” he says. “I’m not much of a reader but “rich girl who’s actually bad ass” sounds pretty familiar.”

Scarlett waves her hand. “Yeah yeah, it’s all true! I even have a dark back story – I’d make a great main character.”

“Let me guess, you’re adopted, and your real family was murdered by some unknown killer.”

“My younger sister died in a car accident, and I was never the favourite child. My parents shipped me off to boarding school, so they didn’t have to deal with me,” Scarlett replies, looking directly at JJ.

It seems an inappropriate time for him to be distracted by how beautiful Scarlett’s dark brown eyes look in the sun.

And yet.

JJ’s eyes widen. “Wait, you’re serious? Fuuuuck, I am so sorry…I had no idea,” he says, grimacing. He’s annoyed at himself – he was just trying to banter, but it’s all fun and games until someone drops a bomb like that.

Scarlett smiles and touches his arm delicately. JJ first notices how cool her hand is, despite the humid day, and then notices she has a fresh coat of dark red polish on her nails.

He tenses, not used to someone being so blatantly touchy like this, least of all a Kook. Scarlett notices and moves her hand back onto the sand, looking at him like she’s about to ask him what the problem is but clearly decides against it.

“It’s fine, honestly. Happened a long time ago and they leave me to my own devices a lot, which makes it easier to do whatever I want.”

JJ nods in understanding. “I get that.”

There’s a comfortable pause before Scarlett abruptly stands up, dusting the sand off her denim shorts. JJ looks at her questioningly but stands up too.

“Enough of this emotional shit,” Scarlett says. “I wanted to talk to you to a) apologise for my behaviour this morning-”

“-it’s fine-”

“-and b) invite you out tonight.”

“Out?” JJ asks.

Scarlett nods. “I think we’re both in need of some fun and some company. Why don’t you come to mine tonight? My parents are out again, and they’ve got a pretty sweet liquor cabinet.”

JJ can’t believe he’s saying this, but he says, “I’ll think about it.”

Scarlett shrugs. “Close enough. See you tonight, or not,” she says and blows him a kiss before turning and walking away down the beach.

JJ stands there stunned for a moment (definitely because of the sheer absurdity of the situation and not because he checked out her ass as she walked away) and thinks over his options.

He’s not sure he wants to willingly wander back into Kook territory for the second night in a row, never mind go into one of their houses.

Although, he thinks to himself. Where’s the harm in spending time with Scarlett for the time being until Pope and Kie come around? Because they will, right?

Besides, Scarlett’s pretty nice, pretty hot and she’s willing to hang out with him and give him free booze. What could go wrong?

JJ’s made up his mind and, perhaps against his better judgement (which was truly shaky to begin with), he finds himself on the roof of Scarlett’s mansion again that night, tapping on her bedroom window.

He starts to worry he got the wrong room or, even worse, the wrong house, when she doesn’t answer straight away but all of a sudden the curtains are pulled back and Scarlett’s excited face appears on the other side of the glass.

She yanks open the window rather haphazardly (JJ suspects she’s gotten into her parents’ grog early), the cool glow of the moonlight making her teeth an iridescent white as she grins widely up at JJ.

“So glad you could make it, Maybank. Let’s get this party started.”

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dramaplustautology · 6 years ago

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Office Flowers

Summary: A highschool student gets lost in the big scary Rose Towers, and has to talk his way through a misunderstanding that landed him a job.

But that’s not really important and there’s no reason to think too hard, it’s just most of the Rose characters in an Office AU for fun and not serious drama! Was an experiment with a genderbent Ty so apologies if the pronouns get mixed up a bit.

How did Ty end up in the Rose Corporation’s main lobby? Why was he hiding behind the couches in the sitting area with only his briefs to uphold is honor? That’s not important. This was a school day, there was no time for thinking about something stupid like that.

His life hinged on streaking as fast as he could during peak morning hours and diving into the nearest taxi without anyone snapping a pic of his face.

“Come on, come on.” Ty gritted his teeth, waiting for the sea of uniformed office workers to part. Oh god, security was already patrolling the doors, probably armed to the teeth with tasers. Nah, the lobby was built in front of the main skyscraper with a ceiling made of glass and shaped like a dang rose. They probably had taser batons.

It was over.

“Pssst!”

Or not.

“Hi there,” A kind face was leaning over the back of the couch, dropping his winter coat over Ty’s shoulders. “Crazy part last night, right?”

“Mmhmm, I didn’t make it home.” Ty made a sheepish smile at his savior.

“Well, no need to go,” The guy smiled back, putting the brakes on the hope spot and Ty’s poor heart. “I have an extra suit in my car. Let me get it for you!”

The swell guy was named Sam, and he told Ty that there was no need to “Ty” the tie while winking a lot.

“Before I got the job, I practiced with a tie for hours,” Sam was comparing two identical blue ties to see which fit Ty’s neck better. It took slightly less time than brushing Ty’s hair and apologizing over how his clothes hugged Ty too tight. “It’s a real shame only having to fix one every morning.”

“Cute.” Ty teased, flustering Sam into a sweet shade of pink.

“W-wow, thanks,” Sam stammered, deftly tying the Ty around his neck and smoothing out his white collar. “I usually get coffee splashed when I mention that.”

“Is that why you have an extra suit ready?” Ty asked, following Sam out of the lobby bathroom. He was nice but as soon as he was at his desk, Ty had to bounce. Hopefully, he could gently break into Sam’s car and return the suit the next day.

“Yeah, but I don’t mind ironing two sets of clothes,” Sam began leading Ty to the elevators, melding into the throng of employees. “So, which department do you work for?”

“You tell me,” Ty glanced at a huge TV hanging from the ceiling, spouting the Rose’s motto; “Helping you helping yourself.” What the hell did that mean? “C-cause I’m a new hire! I’m barely even sure what we do here.” He said quickly, noticing Sam pale.

Eyes darting from one end of the lobby to the other, Sam whispered “But not a cop, right?”

Yikes.

“You know, I love working here! We get along really well! Haha wow, so much harmony, we’re practically a temple.” Sam forced a loud laugh as they passed the security desk and no further.

An entire wall of meat decked out in more Velcro lined armor than an actual cop blocked the pair’s way, tapping a very large baton on the palm of his huge hand.

“Chief of Security Sofist!” Sam exclaimed, shoulders high and shivering.

“Welcome to the Rose Towers,” Sofist leaned down towards them both. “You know why I’m saying that?”

“Because your largest muscle is your heart?” Ty smirked, grabbing Sam’s arm and started to circumvent the behemoth.

“Don’t be smart. Smart is evil!” He turned, stopping them with a jagged glare. “I’ve never seen your face before, and I have every spindly spectacle on file. Why don’t you step behind the desk and we can have a chat?”

Ty would have kept being smart but Sam was shoved into him and another suit just had to walk in between them and Sofist.

“Keep up the good work, hill-billy.” Theano sneered, tossing a plastic cup of coffee over his shoulder and it landed, overturned on Sofist’s head like a party hat.

The coffee on his face evaporated instantly as Sofist’s face went red with rage. Leaping over the security desk, Bradley hugged Sofist by the waist and dug his heels into the floor with all his might to keep the bull from charging.

“No, not Theano! Remember last time!” Bradley hissed desperately, just about elbowed in the head by Sofists’ flailing arms. “Akanthus is over there! Calm down!”

Looking over to where Bradley was staring, Ty saw Akanthus standing ten twenty feet away. Running his hand over the front of his helmet, he made a beleaguered sigh and returned to his morning routine without another word.

“Time to go!” Ty slung an arm around Sam’s shoulder and hurried him to the elevators while Sofist was too busy blinded by red.

Stuffing themselves into a packed elevator, Ty watched Sam jab the button to the fourth floor when the other passengers were headed to level fifty and over.

“Which is your stop?” Sam asked.

“Er, I’m not sure. I’m the new hire, remember?” Ty struggled to come up with a generic office job and ignored the sound of rolling eyes from the rest of the peanut gallery. “Uuu the new secretary!”

A collective gasp filled the cramped elevator and suddenly, Ty’s new co-workers were pressing themselves against the walls to give him more space.

“Really? Oh my god! And you don’t know where you’re supposed to go?” Sam exclaimed, jabbing the button to the top most floor. “Don’t worry, Ty! I got you!”

They weren’t even past the first floor and Ty was feeling a fatal case of vertigo.

By the time the elevator was nearing the top, the rest of the occupants had filed out and Sam had changed Ty’s soft blue tie to a serious navy.

“I can’t believe this, my clothes! On the CEO’s secretary,” Sam hummed, fussing over a clip he fastened to Ty’s suit cuff. “No wonder you’re so out of it. You must have partied real hard when you heard you landed the job.”

“It was amazing,” Ty was sweating, wondering if he could punch the emergency breaks without getting arrested later. Thank god for Sam letting him borrow his vanilla deodorant. “So weird, huh? How we didn’t run into each other during the party?”

“Ehem,” Sam lowered his voice. “I didn’t actually go, they would have thrown me in the dumpster if I did.”

Distracted by Sam’s sad confession, Ty nearly jumped out of his skin when the bell rang for floor ninety-nine.

“This is so exciting.” Sam ushered Ty out of the elevator to the receptionist’ desk. Behind him was a long hall lined with rooms fitted with wall-sized frosted windows. At the very end was nothing but plaster and detailed blue wallpaper framing a polished black wooden door, all business.

“This is Ty,” Sam patted his shoulder, smiling at the receptionist with the very familiar red hair. “They were just hired as the CEO’s Secretary.”

Amadeus fingers hovered over his computer’s keyboard, glancing between Ty’s blood-drained cheeks and a photo of his daughter next to the papermache vase she made.

“You’re thirty minutes early,” He steepled his fingers and leaned back in the expensive, posture-righting office chair. “Good, Jaania will be happy to see you.”

His mercy was torture, and Ty forced a grateful grin and a bow of his head, wishing Amadeus would lop it off and end it all.

“Good luck!” Sam gave Ty a hug, upgrading their relationship to best friends on the spot, and gently pushed him towards the execution chamber.

With nervous eels writhing in his stomach, Ty steadily walked by the rooms of the Rose’s elite until he had his hand on a silver knob.

“Hope you can still make it to babysitting tomorrow night.” Amadeus called after them.

“Juggling babysitting too? Wow!” Sam gasped, and Ty squeezed his eyes shut, heading on through.

He practically stepped into the fourth dimension; the room was a vacuum that devoured all sound in its sterile white walls and black marble floor. The CEO’s desk was made of a warm brown wood that felt alien in its surroundings, on top of a fluffy white rug the decorator must have had a lot of fun with. Behind the desk was a wall made of glass, overlooking the tops of the low hanging louds and the endless blue that melded with the CEO’s hair.

Ty would have heard his own heart trying to escape the situation if it weren’t for the CEO’s typing echoing in the barren office.

Staring for what could have been either a minute or thirty years, Ty’s mouth opened and closed, with nothing coming out of it.

Jaania didn’t care.

“G’morning!” Ty managed, hand halfway up to giving Miss. Miss-Me a salute and then thinking better of it. “Sir Ma’am Jaania? I’m the new secretary you hired.”

Jaania still didn’t care.

Tap tap tapping against her white keyboard, she kept her eyes trained on the computer screen for another eternity, like she was waiting for Ty’s sweat to pool on her fancy floor.

“I don’t time for this.” Jaania finally spoke, grabbing a clipboard and holding it out to her left.

Scurrying like he would get shot for letting Jaania’s arm hang there for more than a moment, Ty took the clipboard and held in his panting.

“The convention is less than two weeks away and we need more partners, but I need more time for better things to do.”

Having no idea about any of what Jaania was saying, Ty nodded his head, making mhmm noises. He flipped through the papers on the clipboard and was further confused.

“My last personal secretary set up a meeting with the head of Sandsea Silks in—“She checked her silver wristwatch. “—two minutes, and was fired too late,” Jaania continued to type five pages per minute. “I can’t be there and if you can get them to sign, consider your trial period over.”

“Wh—“

“Two rooms down on the right,” Jaania snapped her fingers and pointed to the door. “Go.”

Barely stopping himself from swearing and getting thrown out the building then and there, Ty scurried out of the stifling room and back into the scary hall.

Here it was, the perfect time to escape!

“This way.” Amadeus was waiting for him, holding the door open to certain Doom.

It would have been nice to have a grenade hiding in his mouth but Ty, facing down and old ‘friend,’ winked and patted his clipboard twice.

Not moved in the slightest, Amadeus slammed the door shut between Ty when he shuffled into the long conference room.

At the end of the glass table, a man with a black comb over and spectacles the size of thumbnails sat reading documents on his tablet. He glanced up at Ty with dull eyes, expecting a boy a third his age to breathe some life into him.

By his polished shoes was a briefcase that would do well as a blunt weapon. For a long while, Ty estimated how hard he’d need to hit, how fast the person watching the security feed would run, and if he could survive a seventy-story fall.

Then, the man rubbed the dark bags under his gray eyes. It made Ty consider the rest of him.

For a meeting with the Rose’s head and their secretary, you’d think it would be someone just as important with their own secretary and maybe a team of lawyers to supervise the exchange.

Unless, they thought they were more important than they were.

“Are you the secretary?”

“Hmm yes. It will only be me today,” The man said, placing the briefcase on the table and opening it to reveal and ungodly stack of papers stuffed inside. Despite that, he spoke like he was going to go through the motions until they reached ‘no.’ “Can we begin?”

That was a lot of paperwork, which meant this guy knew enough to run things without his boss.

Ready to make one huge gamble, Ty walked over and shoved the briefcase to the carpet.

“Excuse me?” Comb-over was about to stand among his fluttering papers but Ty shoved him back into his seat.

“Do you think you can do your employer’s job?” Ty questioned. He took out his wallet, which was no longer warmed in his briefs thank-you-very-much-Sam, and threw a few styled calling cards on the table in front of his client.

“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded, losing his tablet to Ty’s gloved hands, no longer warmed by his briefs either. Laugh at that as much as you like, they were still black and Comb-over stopped breathing at the sight. The array of business cards made him give a sharp gasp.

“Let me rephrase that. Do you think you can do a better job than your employer?” Ty asked, bringing up a few news articles for Comb-over’s perusal. “Better yet, if they were gone, are you the only one who knows enough to keep Sandsea Silks running?”

Pressing his lips together, Comb-over gripped the arms of his chair and thought hard.

“I would say so.”

“For an easy slide into the position, nothing on your hands and no prints on the net, how much would you pay?”

“Um…”

“Guestimate for me,” Ty sat himself on the table, crossing his legs. “Can’t be under three million though.”

“Ten million.” Comb-over hissed, teeth gritted and nails digging drawing blood from his palms.

“Oh shoot, I didn’t think it’d be this e—“ Ty was interrupted by Comb-over’s hands slamming on the table.

“Twenty.”

Obviously, the promotion was worth more than the paycheck. Or maybe, judging by the man’s heaving chest, it was personal.

Not that Ty cared.

Picking up the gold business card, Ty called up the number.

“Hello, Cutesy.” He chimed cheerily the moment his call was taken.

“How did you get this number?” The woman on the other end demanded. “I told you that if I ever saw you again, I’d strangle you with your own spine.”

“Twenty million,” Ty grinned and the threats stopped as he handed the tablet over to let Comb-over see. “Circe did these ones.”

The greedy glint in the man’s eyes grew and he began signing the documents on Ty’s clipboard without reading the fine print.

Sofist and that Akanthus guy were waiting outside.

“There he is!” Sofist stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

“Here I am! The secretary,” Ty stepped forward too, nose just barely touching Sofist’s wide chest. “With all the necessary documents.” He flipped through the papers on his clipboard, letting them cascade with the sweet sound of approval.

All three of them had to make way for Comb-over to march his victory parade to the elevators.

“A pleasure doing business with you!” He grinned, more alive than on the day he was born. Waving good-bye to them, he hummed a joyous tune and Akanthus turned to Sofist.

“Buh!” Was all Sofist could manage before Akanthus returned to his own office.

“Next time, cry wolf when you have one broken under your arm.” He said, slamming the door.

Seething next to Ty’s wolfish grin, Sofist continued to ball use ruefully unused fists and muttered insults under this breath next to Ty’s wolfish grin.

This was it, the grail of youth! The golden ticket snatched out of some other poor sucker’s pauper hands! In a dog eat dog world, Ty had suddenly found himself in a position where he could skip school and skip being thrown on the streets until he was thirty.

If winging it was this easy, then Ty could handle the rest. Just wait till his Baby Belle heard about this!

“Why are you still here?” Akanthus opened the door, the horns on his helmet clipping on the steel frame as Ty and Sofist straightened their postures. Rather than face more shame, Sofist bit down and pushed past Ty, giving him an opening to take something of the Security Head’s. “Secretary Melonie, was it?” Akanthus’ attention fell to Ty. “Jaania is pleased with your work.”

Nice, nice! He’ll deal with Mel when the time comes.

“She expects you to succeed with the rest of the list.” Akanthus finished, closing the door again.

Slapping the clipboard on his thigh, Ty groaned until it became a full snarl and almost tossed the clipboard through Akanthus’ window.

Grumbling, Ty stormed down the hall, passing the receptionist on his way to an elevator.

“See you later, daddio.” Ty tossed his way.

“No.” Amadeus stated, continuing his work.

The long elevator ride had actually cleared Ty’s mind of the useless worries and needless stress. You can’t waste time worrying and doing nothing. At least do something you can handle and get the edge off there.

Besides, that meeting took way longer than Ty thought. Probably the adrenaline making him think a mile a minute but it was already lunch.

“Your mom still pack your lunch, Sam?” One of the security guards shoved Ty’s new best friend to the floor, nearly braining him on the edge of an uncaring bystander’s cubicle. He didn’t have to but the guard stomped on Sam’s lunch and headed back to his patrol.

Glum, Sam made sure his squashed sandwich and orange slices stayed in their plastic baggy and tried to pick himself up.

“Is this why you thought I was a cop?” Ty asked, offering to help him.

“Hey you’re back!” Sam practically jumped to his feet, stopping short of hopping up and down. “How did it go? You’re staying around, right? Thanks for coming by!”

“Yeah, I was waiting for you.” Ty said, seating himself back at the desk next to Sam’s. The desk’s occupant didn’t bother at another attempt to make the CEO’s secretary move. Ty was higher on the ladder than them and he at least sat in a way that let them see the screen.

“Uh…” Sam stared at Ty and his booster seat, a little flustered at Ty wrapping and arm around their shoulder, hugging them snug to the crook of his shoulder.

“No thoughts on the whole cop thing?” Ty woke him back up.

“I actually used to go to highschool with Vince,” He said, sitting down. Ty had to strain to hear him among the ringing phones and beeping photocopy machines. “I was even on the same lacrosse team as him but you know, they didn’t want a twig messing up their games. As you can see—“Sam took the flattened, juice drenched sandwich out of his baggy. “—it didn’t stop when I got sent back to the books. Still, I don’t want to be that guy that causes trouble y’know?” He took a bite of his meal, and it honestly wasn’t horrible. “There might be an investigation, we all have to it down in separate rooms to talk again, lots of stuff that’ll make work harder.” Sam sighed, lighting up a bit when Ty placed a coffee can on his desk.

“Let me take care of that,” Ty said, grabbing the plastic baggy. “Jeez, but it’s bad enough that you think the police would get involved?”

“I’m fine! Really!” Sam protested, not at all convincing. “He doesn’t bother me when I’m at my desk.”

An eraser made an arch over the cubicles and struck Sam in the forehead.

“Ouch!” Sam rubbed the spot, realizing the eraser had been covered in wet black marker, and that he had made a big smudge on his face. “Not usually.”

“Ahuh,” Ty said, taking out the walky he had grabbed off Sofist up on the top floor. “You listening in on this frequency? I know you are and I hope you heard.” He said, shoving the walky back into his pocket. Sam was out of his seat, reaching desperately for it but Ty kept him at bay by pressed a tissue to his forehead. Two birds, one ball.

“Why did you do that?” Sam demanded.

“Why did you show me where I needed to go when you knew it was going to make you late?” Ty asked, patting the top of his booster seat’s head as thanks for telling him. “Friends watch out for each other.”

“But—“

“And I need your help again,” Ty cut him off, already diverting Sam’s attention. “Have a sip of that coffee, you’re going to need to be awake.”

“Oh, okay!” He opened the can and downed half of it as Ty continued to talk.

“Me and the person who hired me had a bit of a falling out. Now, it would have been fine if we never saw each other again but they got something I need,” Ty drummed his fingers on his booster seat’s arm. “I have a list of contacts but no line of contact. Raven over at human relations told me about how the person who hired me, Hansa, stepped down from a top position to help the sprouts grow from the bottom.

“Hansa’s really nice, she has an office with Yasimi in the back,” Sam struggled to swallow the bitter drink. Ty should have gone for the au lait version. “What happened between you two? I’ve never seen her get mad before.”

“Well, when Hansa told me about how there weren’t going to be any problems with me getting hired, I said “as far as I can see!” by accident.” Ty shrugged, pretending to be sheepish.

“Wait,” Sam paused for a moment, really thinking about what that meant before his eyes went wide. “No, she’s not going to be mad about that!”

“But, I’m mad about that! I didn’t even know she was blind. The eye scars looked like a fashion statement to me,” Ty was lying through his pearly whites, professionally dipping into his guilty sigh. “I need to get access to the right channels to talk to our partners but I don’t want to make thinks awkward, y’know?” Leaning back over the arm of the office chair and squishing his booster seat’s mouse hand, Ty did another dramatic sigh. “If only I could sneak in, take a look at what I needed, all without having to have that hard talk. I can’t believe I’m putting my job on the line cause can’t talk right.”

Sam scratched his chin.

“I did need some clarification with some of the files I’m handling,” Sam nodded. “Maybe I could get her out of the room for a bit.”

Ty leaped on to Sam’s lap and the office chair slid down the alley of cubicles.

“You’re the best!” He squished Sam’s cheeks until he began to laugh.

Though Hansa could work just fine without needing to see the screen, her tools all made to fit her needs perfectly, Yasimi was around to catch any bugs that got in the way. She wasn’t about to leave Hansa alone with Sam and his one hundred questions fitted into a single sentence.

The two were leaving their office because Sam couldn’t understand their advice from just words and Ty watched them from behind the corner down the hall.

“Anyone listening in on this frequency? I actually don’t know how these things work.” Ty said into the walkie.

It crackled back “Just me now.”

So the thing with Vince bullying their clients did matter.

“Great, I think we left off on the wrong foot this morning. The stuff with Vince taken aside, I’m thinking you were all hired because of this specific thing I saw on the news last year.”

“Maybe.”

What did Sofist mean by “Maybe,” of course the Rose hired him because of last year’s scary mess.

“Not a lot’s happened in a year. They might need a reminder.”

With that, Ty put the walkie away and spotted his target: an unassuming guy at a desk that jumped every time his computer made a noise.

Blowing up Sam’s plastic baggy, Ty snuck it next to his ear, and slapped his hand down. The loud pop made the little man screech and tore out of his seat.

Some people heard the pop, everyone heard the scream, and everyone jumped to conclusions.

Papers went flying and so did a few keyboards. People stampeded down the aisles of cubicles, trampling each other when they weren’t scrambling under their desks. In less than a second, office workers were banging on the elevator doors, rolling down the stairs, or throwing chairs at the bullet-proof windows.

Ty slunk back to the corner of the hall and let the chaos unfolded.

Three floors below, Bradley swiveled his chair to face Sofist.

“We should clear it up.”

“No,” The edge of Sofist’s mouth angled up ever so slightly. “Let the pencil-pushers get some exercise.”

Peeking around his corner, Ty spotted Sam running towards him and reached out his arm.

“Hurry! I see them coming!” Ty yelled and Sam ran faster. He jumped into Ty’s arms and Vince, who Ty had seen behind him trying to make sense of what was happening, heard the secretary and got his baton out. It sparked with electricity, and he stepped around the corner, swooping down on the nearest movement.

Yasimi caught his wrist just as the alarms and sprinklers went off.

“Why did we stop?” Hansa asked, holding on to Yasimi’s shoulder.

“To get one big idiot fired.” Yasimi hissed as Vince steadily grew smaller.

“Hey let’s all calm down now, it was an accident.” Sam tried to soothe the situation and Ty left them to sort it out, slipping past them, and stealing Vince’s handcuffs on his way towards Hansa’s office.

Good news, there weren’t any sprinklers in her office. A safety violation for sure but Ty hadn’t counted on someone getting worked up enough to pull the fire alarm.

Bad news, even in a state of emergency, Hansa had taken the care to sign out of her computer.

“Are you kidding?” Ty tugged on his hair.

“Let me take care of that.” A nice lady with long black hair slick from the sprinkler water, dressed in a gray pencil skirt she quite hated, nudged beside Ty and began typing in the password.

The sign in screen gave way to rows of shortcuts and the lady jabbed a USB into the port, quickly taking what she needed.

“Mind opening this one?” Ty pointed to a folder holding the list of names he needed.

“Depends on who’s asking.” The lady glanced at him.

“I’m Ty, I don’t plan to be here for more than a few years. Definitely don’t plan to remember this.”

“I’m Melonie, I don’t plan to be here in the next five minutes.” Melonie, if that was her real name, opened the folder for Ty.

“Nice meeting you, and thanks for the help.” Ty grabbed the papers that were spat out of the printer.

“Same.” Melonie said, taking her USB and sprinting out of the room, and out of sight.

On the phone in an office, his office actually, Ty chatted up an old friend while Sam toweled himself off across from his desk.

“That’s fourteen out of seventeen names we can hit,” Ty and his buddy laughed over the shared realization. “But nah, I won’t bother you with all of them. You still need business and I only need one of them to make a big enough contribution and get the other shaking.”

“He needed a break from that lady anyways,” The other guy laughed. “The appointment’s for seven o’clock so I suggest you take the car I’m sending you in ten minutes.”

Holding his hand over the receiver, Ty glanced at Sam wringing out his white dress shirt. There was an ink stain on the edges he stuffed into his pants when he had the shirt on. Embarrassed, he smiled back at Ty.

“Sam’s going to do great, I promise. See you.” Ty hung up and heard a knocking on his door.

“I’ll get that,” Sam got up and opened the door to Amadeus who stared at him with stone dead eyes. “Is that for Ty?” He noticed the fancy suit on the clothes hanger Amadeus had dangling from his outstretched arm.

“Baby Belle’s fast!” Ty exclaimed, waving at Amadeus. The man threw the clothes into Sam’s face and slammed the door on him. “And those are for you.”

“I can’t accept these!” Sam marveled at the gray, on the verge of silver, coat and pants ensemble. “These look like they’re worth three times my rent.”

“Belle’s going to be so happy you said that but if you won’t take that as a gift from a friend to a friend, can you accept them as a way to get this super important job done?” Ty clapped his hands together, batting his eyelashes pleadingly at Sam.

Pressing his lips together, Sam wrinkled his nose and struggled to piece the puzzle.

“Are you sending me to meet those super important people on your list?” His breathing sped and he fell back into his chair. “I’m just a regular guy! I’m going to let you down!”

“Uh-uh, you’re going to take the sedan down from to their estate, ring their doorbell, and smile at the lady expecting you,” Ty leaned over his desk and pinched his cheek. “You know how confident I am in you? I’m not even going to tell you what you’re supposed to be doing there. You’re going to be yourself and it’s going to be the best.”

“What?” Sam’s head almost exploded.

“My buddy’s waiting for you downstairs and he’ll take care of you from there.” Ty grinned, tapping a tune on his lap.

“H-how much time do I have to pull myself together?” Sam stammered, rubbing his straining neck.

“Oh, five.”

“Five?” Same blinked.

“Four.”

Positively giggling, Ty chased after Sam on his office chair as he charging down the hall with his new suit. Diving into the elevator, Sam started praying and watched his new friend wave him off.

“You hear that, Amy?” The elevator bell rang as Ty turned to the receptionist, who did his best to keep eye-contact to a bare minimum. “That’s the sound of me and you about to share lunch breaks until you retire.”

Non-plussed, Amadeus dialed a number into his phone and the landline in Ty’s office started to ring. It rang until Amadeus was greeted by voicemail.

“Do you have any idea of what your job entails?” Amadeus asked the voicemail. “Without any softhearts like that Neron character helping you, I’ll be happy to see your bloated corpse floating in the water.”

Ty gasped, eyes shining.

“You do care, Amy.” He blew a kiss towards Amadeus and slid back to his office in search of Neron’s phone number, leaving Amy to grieve over his new circumstances.

Sitting cushy in his seat, Ty read over the notes Neron had been kind enough to jot up for him.

“I would be more upset if I didn’t think whoever wanted to work directly under Jaania would be less honest than a stranger that sneaked into the building.” Neron had said, promising more to come tomorrow.

“So if you don’t want us to press assault charges against your family, and let the facts in the civil case leak to the press, I’ll be expecting that big donation come tomorrow,” Ty talked on his phone, happy with good news for once. “Don’t forget to convince all your friends what a good business decision it is to invest in the Rose!”

Hearing thundering footsteps approach his door, Ty hung up and waited.

“AAAAAAAAH!” Sam burst into the office, looking like he got mauled by a pack of dogs without teeth. His suit was disheveled and torn in places that would get him arrested on the street.

He looked to the desk and yelled again.

“Akanthus, Sir! Am I in the wrong office?” Sam coughed, trying to rub the lipstick stains off his neck and cheeks.

“No, he just needed to use my computer.” Ty scuttled over on his office chair, giving Sam a big hug while minding the bit marks on his tummy.

“W-why?” Sam scratched his messy hair, still way out of it.

Jaania’s second had dozed for a moment, and his helmet had smashed his computer. Was he going to call IT and get it fixed? That meant letting Zadd up here.

“Akanthus, sir?” Sam stammered, but Akanthus said nothing, pouring coffee directly into the opening in his helmet.

“Look at you.” Ty opened Sam’s shirt when he noticed a bit of marker peeking out from his collar.

“What happened? What did they write on me?” Sam frantically scratched at his clothes.

“You got the wife’s number and the daughter’s, woof!” Ty patted his back. “Congratulations, Sam! Your love life is now the healthiest in the building.”

They thought Akanthus snorted at that but didn’t know for sure.

“How about you and me grab a few bottles Friday night, and pop them on a job well done?” Ty winked, tracing a heart around the phone numbers. “I’ll call my girlfriend and you can bring your new friends too.”

“Secretary Melonie?” Akanthus spoke, shocking Sam out of his fifth emotional crisis of the day. He glanced at Ty quizzically.

“Ty is short for Melonie.” Ty shrugged and Akanthus didn’t bother looking up from his work.

“If you’re done wasting time, get to preparing the event. Catering, decoration, stay-at-home parent things, it doesn’t matter. Jaania should have sent you the details along with and a query to which of you account to link to the payroll.”

“Would that be by email?” Ty hesitated, gripping Sam by his lapels tightly. “I didn’t happen to get new any mail.”

“Any contact information errors should be seen to immediately, though I doubt this was a mistake on Jaania’s part.”

“Why her?” Ty chanced.

“Jaania handles her assistant’s information personally.”

Dear lord.

No! No, it was still fine! Did Jaania look at Ty when he was in her office? Nah, she and Cosplay King sitting at his desk were too busy secretly funding overseas criminal syndicates.

There was still time to fix this!

“Hang tight, Sam. I’ll be right back. Just need to head to the bathroom.” Ty left for Jaania’s office, knowing she was in a meeting because he was the Secretary.

Sam winced at the door closing behind Ty, too afraid to turn around.

“Why does it smell like candles and olive oil in here?” Akanthus tsked as Sam quickly wiped the remains off his skin.

Already at the door to Jaania’s office, Ty was ready to get into her computer and change all of Melonie’s contact information, banking info, and resume to his own. Miss. Miss Me would think she had hallucinated the entire mix up before Ty got several years in jail for identity fraud.

Evidently, Ty wasn’t the only one prying at Jaania’s schedule for nefarious reasons.

“Who the hell are you?” Ty gaped at the man snooping through Jaania’s computer, her spare glasses resting on his nose. “Wait a minute, aren’t you that Theano guy?”

Rolling with his mistake, Theano sat back in the CEO’s chair and leaned his elbows on the arms.

“That’s CEO Theano to you.” He pointed a pen at Ty.

“You know what? I don’t have time for this.” Ty grabbed the back of the office chair Theano had stolen and shoved it towards the nearest door.

“That’s a closet! Don’t you dare--” Shoving the pompous man into the closet stuffed full of designer coats Jaania probably wore when she stepped on her enemies, Ty used the stolen cuffs to tangle around the closet’s handles.

“Welcome back, Jaania!” Ty pretended Miss. Miss Me had returned and it worked like a charm. Theano clammed up and Ty sprinted back out the hall to get another chair.

Changing the info could be done during the next meeting. Jaania returning and not finding her chair was missing sounded like an immediate slight that would get Ty tossed out the window, one limb at a time. Any slight, really.

“Thanks, Amy!” Ty grabbed Amadeus’ chair right as he was about to sit down. The man went legs up and Ty was so sad he couldn’t stick around to laugh, even if it meant also getting tossed out of the window, one limb at a time.

He rode the chair all the way back into Jaania’s office, slid it behind her desk, and Jaania leaned over the backrest.

“Take a seat, won’t you?” The CEO motioned to the chair, which might as well have been electric, on the other side of her desk.

His entire upper body drained of blood, Ty quietly stepped around the desk and slumped in the stiff wooden grave.

“Perhaps I should say that my employees are all idiots who can’t see a screaming lie when it’s dancing in front of their noses,” Jaania said, sitting in her new chair and deciding she quite liked it. Behind Ty’s head, the CEO saw Amadeus dejectedly close the door to her office. “But they aren’t idiots. Not all of them.”

Saying nothing, not even breathing, Ty cradled his head in his hands.

“With our partners secured for sponsoring the convention, I suppose this entire debacle wasn’t a loss.” Jaania reached for her phone and the sounds of her finger dialing up a number made Ty deaf.

Time stretched painfully on as Ty wondered how much his parents were going to laugh at him when he used his one phone call from his new cell. He wondered how hard Belle was going to dump him and how loudly she would say that she hated him. Maybe he should punch out his ear drums in advance.

“I’d like to enquire about the work experience program at your institution. I understand that he’s in his senior year?” Jaania’s words suddenly broke through Ty’s despaired stupor. “Weekdays after school from four to two should suffice.”

“As in four in the afternoon to two in the morning?” Ty raised his head and Jaania covered the receiver.

“Would you rather I call the authorities?”

Fair.

Once the arrangements were finalized, Jaania considered Ty like a lion considered a hogtied gazelle.

“If I let you go, I lose a potential for a better than average handler of my mundane affairs. You, on the other hand, won’t leave the building. Do we have an understanding?”

Swallowing, Ty nodded.

“What’s next on my schedule?” Jaania asked.

“The last secretary made this appointment with Amityvale Pharmaceuticals, starting in ten minutes.”

“Your advice?”

Letting out a deep breath, Ty said “Don’t waste energy growing flowers on graves.”

Seeing that her glasses were missing, Jaania opted for white-framed sunglasses.

“I’ll be skipping to visiting the labs. Get the necessary documents on the shelf and follow me there.” Standing, Jaania’s heels clicked on the marble as she headed out to the hall. The moment Ty was able to breathe again, he did five laps around the room.

Whistling a jaunty tune, he grabbed the files from their respective boxes, and listened to the banging coming from inside the closet.

“I don’t have the keys, but since I’m having such a charitable day, I’ll tell security you had an accident and handcuffed the closet shut behind you. I’m sure they saw you on their cameras.”

“When security finds me, I’ll—“Theano paused. “Right. Security.”

With that taken care of, Ty thought of the opportunities. So many of them! Ones in the building, and the ones Melonie probably had waiting for him too. Sure, a lot of them could hit literal dead ends, but Ty could keep walking.

“Sam!” He called to his waiting friend, stepping out of the office and into the garden.

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pkmntrainergreyze · 7 years ago

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The Emo School (Chapter 1)

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Chapter 1: An Emo Box of Misery with Pastel Pink Ecstasy

I used to think anyone doing anything weird was weird. Now I know that it is the people that call others weird that are weird.

-Paul McCartney

09/12/01

Finishing up my plate, well, I couldn’t lie about a few scraps of mixed vegetables on it, the boys decided it’ll be fun to move out of the uncomfortable chairs. I couldn’t escape or not recoil from Ryan’s glares. I know what’s up with him, and the dirty look he’s giving is giving me the creeps. He makes me shiver down my spine and I swear one glare from this long legged man makes me want to stop everything I do- heck, if he was some soldier I’d be doing push-ups right now. (oh hallelujah he isn’t)

“Geez, I just couldn’t finish eating carrots right now Ryro. Is that so big of a problem?” He scoffed before lending me his hoodie. As weird as it sounds I need his dang cologne, it smells pretty darn good, but as much as possible I wouldn’t smell the hoodie in front of him and would rather wear it since it’s d*mn cold for me recently. He seemed to crunch the paper bag once he stared at the floor, as if some cockroach crawled nearby under the shade of the table.

Wait, is there?

“…Ryan, is there-”

“Yes, you spilt my milk in my f*cking man purse B-den”

Oh crap

“Congratulations”

He gave me the Tyrone tone of voice. The same blank yet forcefully enthusiastic voice you hear from the man that often wears a business outfit and a tie.

Where’s the escape Trainer button when you need it?

His face… I couldn’t see it under his brushed locks of hair. I’m not sure whether to look or not to look, either way it’ll probably just result to a really bad, salty ending. Sounds like something you see on Walmart eh? Bittersweet I guess? I am not so sure.

Oh F- the bell rang. It’s really torturous to hear it every single day of the week, especially the inescapable Mondays we have here at school, technically, everybody’s school.

Dallon grabbed his bag and left quickly, even faster than Spencer was when he ran over a advert pole drunk, remind to tell you that story sometime, just not today. Dallon’s a pretty straight guy, he’s like this dad who would be so overprotective of his children- or his students in the real world perspective, but when you think of the other side of that trait, he’s making fucking Dad jokes that my own Dad wouldn’t say. My Dad probably has a better sense of humor than Dallon- Dadlon, whatever.

And honestly speaking, he’s probably trying to avoid making any conversation with us, since we’re kind of talking sweet sweet cocaine.

Ahh yes, I’m about to walk back to the same tracks juniors walk to. I’ll probably receive about ten hearty smiles on my way there. Bet you ten bucks.

Alright, I finally forced my feet to walk and leave the table. Reaching for the end of the cafeteria…

Mrs Jackson smiled. One- wait, that doesn’t count as a junior? She looks nasty tho? Fine, stop judging my poor taste alright?

Passing by Ms Fletcher- okay, one. Her small smile is cleary not that visible. She’s the same child writing poems and speech-y crap for the principal to get quote on quote “extra credit” when in reality she’s serving weeks of detention, constant, but hey, she plays the best d*mn pranks in this school, okay, maybe third bestest.

I still played the “Place-posters-with-Pete’s-phone-number-with-the-tag-’call single males now!’” Prank

Walking around Spencer… Taking a glanc- two.

Oh, I forgot…. Whatever, Spencer looks like a kindergarten anyways so either way no points for me.

Spencer waltzed back to 9AM1 aww.

With how much students doesn’t rush to class after the bell rings, it wouldn’t let me reach that sweet sweet bar of full-on-smiles. Fine, future students, I owe you all ten bucks… only if you’re admit to our holy sacred school though.

Ha! I sound like Principal Wentz.

Profit-oriented mindset over one hundred babe.

I just entered the horrifying classroom of 8AM3. Welcome back to the real world my friends. As soon as I pretty much had my presence in the room students came to class. I heard a lot of talk ‘bout me being the coolest, chillest, most laid-back teacher here in the Junior buildings so I guess I have no competition or complaints.

I can already see the small group of students which I have known to be quite shy. They have my music class after Patrick’s theory crap that I don’t really pay that much attention to.

Mr Flowers just nodded along the conversation he’s having while Mr Bowie kept talking about this junior that idolizes him despite walking down outside the halls of my class. They sure have forgotten that I’m not closing the Godd*mn door before the class have their attendance.

My habitual scoff just came by so casually that students think of it as some form of comic relief. I don’t really know how to explain to these lil demons that it’s an attitude problem.

To think that Patrick’s just on my class, 8AM3, right now, teaching them how Do and Re sounds good together makes me feel better on how I’m actually giving the world- 9AM1 rather, a favor for consuming their time studying with my existence. That’s a joke, Patrick’s probably having fun right now.

Well, it looks like it’s about time.

I looked out the window in the similar fashion the students did as well.

Tick tock tick tock.

“What time is it?” Oh god, that voice crack though. I can hear the punks in this class snickering at it.

“Just struck nine” There goes my sunshine haired buddy cham pal.

“Is the cat at home?”

“He’s about to dine”

It’s Josh, this happened yesterday as well, and the day before. He’s teaching that “cat and mouse” game with the students; this time it’s 8AM2, not 8AM1.

Did I already explained to you why I call classes by numbers?

Well, because the real names sucks. No kidding, it’s so overused.

Who would name their classroom “Grade Eight Morning Glory?”, seriously? I want my class to be “Grade Eight Mary Jane”

Has that kind of ring to it, amiright?

Up until now I wonder why on earth Patrick and Frank likes their class names. I mean- those names are decades old. “Grade Ten Patience” seems plain, don’t tell Frank that.

“Sir do we have an assessment today?” Molly asked from the back with her hand stretched higher than Tyler’s current mood. I nodded as they all groaned. Laughing out of- well, sadism I guess? I had the projector connected to the PC and had it on freeze.

There the students saw my desktop wallpaper of a class picture me and the 8AM3 informally had, plus Patrick, Dallon and Spencer. Spencer truthfully looked out of place in this picture, it looks like he had a date with Aubrey Hepburn. Meanwhile Dallon stood there like he’s telling everyone his birthday is today- but he doesn’t have to lie that it’s on May 4th and that he just turned seven. Patrick’s just there, signature fedora on and a small peace sign.

Let’s not forget my entire class though. We have Frank Gioia and Eva in the front with Frank’s hands on her waist as her eyeliner-ed eyes shone against the color black. The Fro power and his friend glasses just stood there with awkward check poses that seems to go back somewhere deep and hidden in the past. Melanie and Ashley just stood there with no expression, except for the other student beside them, which is Jon, who’s doing the same peace sign Patrick’s been keeping up. The rest is can be explained stereotypical-ly; the emo, the shy artist, the jock, it’s just a fun variety to look at.

“Is that cous’?” I saw him pointing at the one with a black hoodie from the corner of my eye.

“Yep, that’s definitely your cousin Adam”

“They all look happy as heck”

“Sir can we take this sort of picture later?”

Another batch of noise.

Anyways, before my brain shuts down to “teaching mode” looks like I have to get back to this thinking normally crap later. Honestly the author just got no idea how American schools work so let her skip this part dotdootdoot. (let’s just say rep-emo isn’t an American Author (badum tsk))

●———————–●

Finally; the end of the day. Organizing my stuff after drinking my cold caffeine that was left in the canteen at break, I finally had my temporary freedom I shall redeem before my world domination.

Speaking about possible world domination if either me or Patrick does it we’ll both have things planned out but procrastinate later on.

Blowing my students a playful kiss when the bell rang I waltz to the exit first, even so I can still hear their laughs and joyful cheers.

Then I saw something- rather, someone I wish I could just avoid for the week.

Christian Tyler Joseph

My feet practically swooshed and I’m pretty sure my sole—and also my soul—said “nope, not today”. I swear, I’m an atheist but I prayed at that very moment. You know that tense feeling those cliché video game main character does when he or she feels the villain’s presence or just something freaky in the ceiling happens? If you’re thinking you are imaging those overused gulp noises that’s actually real, very real.

Yeah, feeling it.

“Oy! Brendo-”

“I’ll pay my debt later Troye!” Thank God I cut him off before he diss me in front of the students.

“For the last time Fivehead it’s Tyler!”

I know. Dude, we’ve been working together for years now and yet you seem dense about it, maybe that’s just because I always act stupid, don’t let that fool you, I am stupid.

Honestly, that poor guy is so easy to tease. If it wasn’t for my distracting use of ’T’-names I would have had a small—small as Tyler could get—fight. I heard a huff from behind my back that obviously came from Tyler himself, yes, I’m stubborn.

●———————–●

A sigh sadly escaped my lips as I flipped to peak into my students’ Assessment grades.

From Ashbridge to Zoroa; all were sorts of disappointment. Even those who got perfect seems fake to me. If Ryan didn’t left me to go somewhere with Spencer he would have said the grades are as fake as diamonds that looks like broken glass.

I’m so unhappy right now. Never thought I’d use that word.

That all changed when I heard the door slid and also a student did the same but in a more humane manner.

Enter Ashley the student.

She’s that special student who’s quite popular, inside and outside school grounds. She’s literally a celebrity. She seems to get away each time she dyes her hair unlike another student of mine that goes by the name “crybaby”.

Guess who’s her advisor?

Yeah, that’s obviously me, anyone who said “Dallon” deserves a spank… or a slap, that’s just kinky.

“Hey there Mister Urie”

“Hello to you too Ashley, what’s up?”

Unlike other schools, we’re all practically informal here; teachers and students are pretty much close buds that we don’t even have some guidance counselor, I don’t know if that is a flaw or not… I guess Meagan is a counselor, but that’s just Pete’s wife. Going back to Ashley she’s the only girl in my class—well aside from Melanie—that calls me Mister Urie all the time, but that’s probably due to respect, which is quite neat unlike some students.

“I have milk and cookies here, Melanie wanted to give this out and um… She also asked me to give you this note…”

Yeah, that’s Melanie, no one exactly trusts her, except for Tyler and Hal- I mean Ashley I guess.

“Cool, just place it one of the chairs thanks”

She nodded- before I rudely interrupted when the thought rushed back deep inside my skull.

“Wait, what’s written?”

“Umm… It says; Do you like my cookies? They’re made just for you, a little bit of sugar and… lots of poison too” She seems to hesitate on reading it and I have no doubts on why she is.

Honestly, this is one of those times I wish I could pacify her.

I couldn’t blame her actions, she’s been through a lot- like, a whole looot, as edgy as the book written by Pete when he was young (we fortunately got to read it in his office, don’t tell anyone) she has been kidnapped, rough family, drugged and other things I wouldn’t go deeper.

She’s pretty odd, but really a pretty nice person at the same time. It’s like the half dyes of her hair. She, Frank, Eva, Jon, Mikey, Ray and Richie would talk to me all day and I feel comfortable with them.

I honestly like crazy people like her. She doesn’t mind me doing crappy things and she empathize with me, it’s nice to have someone like that ya know?

Hallelujah, I have such great students and yet I’m a sh*tty teacher. I wonder what type of cookies are in there-

F*ck, that pink pastel box looks creepy as Teletub-

I need some breather.

“Hey Ashley can you pass me the coc-”

Oh wait f*ck

She doesn’t know that yet

Oh god that sounds wrong. No I’m not gay shut up… What are you talking about me and Ryan are just friends. No, not even Dallon, shut up. Denial what the- okay I’m done talking to y'all, I’ll tell you about my past with Ryan later, m'kay? Yes I’ll talk about Dallon later too but now you f*cks are just distracting me.

Anyways, she doesn’t know I do cocaine.

“Uhh… what?”

Sh*t, you guys make me sound so bad. Thinking about it, I am the only one to blame if she did knew.

Think Brendon! Think!

WHY AM I IMAGINING SCENES FROM HANGOVER RIGHT NOW?! IT’S STILL 2001.

“Pass me the…. baby powder from the back of the second row shelf thanks”

“Okay… what does it look like there’s a bunch of jars here Mister Urie!” Yelling a bit for me to hear, I felt a drop of sweat coming from my distracting forehead.

“Uhh…. It’s in one of those straight shoote- I mean flower designs in it”

She raised a small glass tube with some flower designs in it. She raised her eyebrow a bit like it’s already questioning me.

I mean, why would someone smoldering with appeal like me would buy flowers? I had enough with people questioning my sexuality so I’m not having that again.

“This one?” She held the love roses tube and shook it. I hope she didn’t suspect me for anything if so then I hope that I ain’t kissing Pete’s *ss for this. Thank past me for buying filtered one and not the transparent, but that’s too early for me to say so.

“Yeah, bring it here. Thanks” She threw it to me and I caught it, fortunately.

“Why would you have it in a flower case?”

Haha…

“I have no containers left, is all”

She nodded once more “I’m pretty sure Principal Wentz would allow ya to use one of the containers in the science room, I mean you’re close to Mister Iero as well right?”

Haha… riiight. I’m pretty sure Mister Wentz or Iero wouldn’t

“Yeah, thanks for the idea and the cookies, tell Melanie the same”

“Yeah, you’re welcome Mister Urie”

●———————–●

“BRENDON!”

That’s Dallon, once more in all his glory. He never seems to stay calm after his week of teaching in this school. His hair looks like his wife quiffed it- whatever people call that hairstyle, maybe I should say hair mess.

“What?” As you can tell, I’m tired as well so long and goodnight Dal, I need some shut eye. This is the same man who almost fell asleep while teaching the opium war, quite surprising that he can be this tense.

“YOU CAN’T DO DRUGS IF THEY CAUGHT YOU YOU’RE IN BIG TROUBLE-”

“SHH!”

Yeah! I would be if you continued yelling.

“Shut up Dallon” I closed the door behind me only to here Dallon handling the doorknob back open.

“Brendon, it’s not healthy”

What is he gonna say? Cardiac arrest? Lung problems? Yeah, I know the side effect don’t worry about it, stimulation has always been a part of me even though I try so hard to deny it. I try to stop each time though so I don’t have to hear this right now.

(Author just searched the side effects of cocaine so this may not be exact, author is not a doctor, author’s life sucks)

“Uhuh”

“No I’m serious! My friend used to do drugs as well and he-”

Oh no. I’m having this talk again am I?

Rolling my eyes back to a distant land called “Nopeland”. I could only hear incoherent sounds of a failed attempt to get me to change my decisions in life. I only found the polychromatic color that matches the walls once more when my eyes landed back to my table.

Smirk.

Grab.

Flick.

“W-cou-hat the h-heck Brendon that’s childish eew is that baby powder or powdered milk? Disgusting”

Nah, that’s coke, have fun cleaning your uniform for tomorrow morning kiddo.

And then- with just one swish and flick- I magically landed back to happy land. Maybe it’s the side effect of cocaine, may or may not be but whatever, I’d like to think that it is for the moment. It’s nice to see someone’s first encounter with coke, if I were to be Van Gogh I’d be painting this view of Dadlon trying to remove the white stains from his crotch right now.

Looks like I have something to write on my Journal huh?

Let’s be real though dear hopefully-future-students; my dairy is a lot more cooler than the Diary Of A Wimpy kid? No? Yeah you’re right, my life sucks. If this were a subject you all would have had all my assessments perfect even on your first day.

I don’t know whether you should take that as a compliment or that states you’re slowly becoming trash- well no, technically all you little eyes are my treasure so don’t go living in the dumps.

“Brendon please help me remove this stuff”

“No thanks”

“Beeeebooo”

“Not this again Dallon”

This is some sick technique in which Dallon uses the nickname “Beebo” to get me to do something. No, I’m not telling you “why Beebo?”.

Fine.

It all started when me and Patrick were teaching the seniors for a bit since Andy couldn’t come due to a winter storm at his place. We were at Patrick’s small enthusiastic explanation about a simple concept when someone boldly called me “Beebo” and it just stucked.

Groaning in the same manner the students of 9AM1 from earlier, I grabbed my handerchief and started rubbing the surface of his sweater that he probably bought last week.

“I hate you”

“Love you too Beebs, now continue helping me will you?”

Geez, I do have a lot to write down today.

Oh crap, he didn’t bought this last week; it says “Grade 10 Hibiscus” so it’s most probably hand made for him from his last advisory class. He got this last Christmas. Crap, I ruined his greatest gift. I am so sorry Dallon. Best not to tell this and the Ashley incident to anyone.

●———————–●

My eyes wondered about when I saw the box Ashley left in the corner.

That pink box…

I swear, I don’t have any idea on what to do with these cookies, they actually smell and look delicious. I guess I’ll never know huh?

“Hey Mister Urie is Richie’s detention over? He asked me to go shopping in Hot Topic today that’s why I’m asking” The next person to ever slide in after class today is Frank Gioia. The emotional kid who doesn’t seem to mind what everyone thinks, he’s a cool dude I swear.

“Oh, he’d be up by no-”

About the box….

As bright as the ideas Gerard drew in his sketchpad (which is full of strange looking people by the way, especially that all white violin girl), my eyes fluttered at the sudden thought that occured.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head to peak in a bit more. He doesn’t seem to be fazed at the fact I avoided answering his question.

“Want some cookies?”

Silence.

He stared at me for a bit, then back to the box I was supposedly reaching out for him to taste. His eyebrow raised at the sight of it.

“Isn’t that Melanie’s?”

Oh, he knew, that was some fail.

Lie or not to lie?

Nah, lying is pretty much fun if you’re a girl.

“Yeah, Melanie gave it to me earlier”

“Yeah saw it too”

Then another batch of awkward silence followed as we stared at each other, eyes locked with such confusion present on both sides.

“Sure… I’ll take one”

He came closer and took a bite of the chocolate chipped cookies from the forsaken box. He seems delighted somehow.

Well.

Looks like I have a new box to place my ecstasy.

●———————–●

I bumped into Ryan earlier.

He gave me this blank look before leaving me in the halls. He seemed to be carrying another paper bag; two packs of cheese whiz I presume. He didn’t seem to mind me whenever I snoop into his bags, although this time was an exception.

⏭️The theater in Brendon’s mind⏮️

Ryan: *looking at his paper bag*

Fab Brendon: What’s that *about to reach into the bag*

Ryan: *Slaps hand*

Ryan: Y o u a r e n o t m y f r i e n d

Exit Ryan.

⏯️

Trust me, give him a few more days and the two of us we’ll be okay, he wouldn’t exchange our friendship over cheese whiz….

I wonder if he thinks the same about me and Frank Sinatra, if so tell him I’d choose the latter.

●———————–●

On my way home I saw Ray and Mikey talking about Gerard and his small sketchpad they saw behind the bush in which he probably left it.

“How did it end up there in the first place?” They looked as confused as I am, Ray just raised his lips a bit higher to look like he’s pensive for an answer.

“He’s Mister Way after all, he can get like this, right Moikey?”

“Mikey Ray, It’s Mikey. Yes, he does act as irresponsible at times”

Sometimes I wonder if that face shows sadness, disappointment, anger or just plain nothing. It’s a pokerface no one could ever break, not even that time Joe played around with Frank’s chemistry set, I mean, mixing Mountain Dew and chunks of Doritos was funny and all, and Gerard’s reporting skills on that scene made the class laugh even more.

I sure do love this school’s innocent scenes.

Wait I’m going too far, back to Mikey.

“Anyways, do you know where your brother is at the moment?”

He shook his head in reply but Ray nodded it with excitement.

“Yeah he said he’s going to binge watch Star Wars in the cinema”

Mikey’s face dropped a bit before going back to normal. That action probably meant sadness… right?

“He forgot to drive me back home, whatever I’ll just walk”

“I’ll come with you don’t worry, we’re practically neighbors”

“no we’re not”

“shush”

I know that I laughed at that small conversation but I still feel the small strange vibe Mikey’s been radiating, unlike Gerard he would have punched me in the face if he was at the scene and tell me to “stay the *beep* away from my sketchpad!”

Was that beep necessary?

“Do you want me to call Gerard?”

“No, it’s okay Mister Urie”

I shrugged as he denied my random act of kindness, ouch.

“Whatever kiddos, get home safely okay?” “Yes Mister Urie” “Oh, and bring your brother’s sketchpad, he doesn’t want it in my hands”

Mikey raised an eyebrow “Don’t you wanna see what’s inside?”

I mean, it could be anything edge-shock-y so I wouldn’t dare open it.

“N-nah, rather not”

Mikey just nodded and fetched for the sketchpad in my hands.

Then I walked back home, just like they did.

God, I’m stopping drugs. Things like this are more stimulating…. and stressful

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