if you find this ( DISCONTINUED )

Two - Told You He Was Charming

Patrick, about a month later:

I walked into school followed closely by of my best friends, the charming Ryan Ross.

"Ay shithead wait up!"

What did I say? Charming as fuck.

"No Ryan, we're going to be late! Just because you can rely on your parents if you don't do to well in the education department doesn't mean we all can. Now c'mon, you lazy ass."

Ryan eyes seemed to be glued to the ground, as he wouldn't quite meet my eyes after the jab about parents. I guess it was a bit uncalled for, but I didn't really see what he had to be guilty or feel bad about, when it wasn't even slightly his fault my parents were shitty at being parents.

I was literally yanked out of my thoughts when I tripped over a foot so conveniently placed right in my path; looking up, I saw it belonged to none other than Gerard fucking Way. He was leaning non-chalantly against the red lockers, the colour of them almost as bright as his hair. Next to Gerard stood the equally as intimidating Pete Wentz and Brendon Urie. Pete was smirking whereas Brendon was just full out giggling at my situation.

"What's so funny Urie?" of course Ryan had to speak up, he was pretty protective of his friends. I just wish he wasn't so blindly brave all the time; talk about being a Gryffindor.

"Your mom."

Ryan just blinked at Brendon in disbelief as he helped me gather up the contents of my schoolbag. "I'm so stunned at the atrocity of that comeback I'm not going to even bother coming up with my own," he said as we walked past them, this time trip-free. "Assholes." Ryan muttered under breath, to pissed off to say anything else.

---/-/-/---

School was over, finally.

Today hadn't been too bad, considering it didn't look like I had aquired any permanent scars, the worst that had happened was Trohman had pushed my face straight down when I was trying to drink from the water fountain, resulting in me cradling my bleeding nose and his friends starting a chorus of "Not bad Joe!" Yeah, not too bad.

I always put off the 'going home' part of the day for as long as possible and today was no exception. Sometimes I went to a cafe or restaurant until it closed, but I really didn't need the temptation of food... Instead, I went to the local library. I nodded to the elderly librarian as i walked in (yes, we were only at the nodding stage despite how many hours I spent here. What can I say, I'm awkward okay?) and started wandering through the shelves, dragging my hand against each individual spine.

As I got to the end shelf my eyes caught upon a book with the word Gray written down the spine. It looked like one of the only good books in this place I hadn't already read so I picked it up and walked over to my favourite armchair in the place. It was actually a pretty good book. Plus the man on the back cover was pretty easy on the eyes.

About halfway through the book, a slip of paper fell out and spiraled to the ground. Picking it up, I realized it was a note. With a number on it.

Should I call it?

I stuffed the number into my pocket as I realised it was starting to get dark. My parents really would not like me back any later and right now I did not feel like dealing with their shit. Next time they should try telling someone who is actually Christian that God hates them, because honestly I really did not give a fuck.

I nodded to the librarian again on my way out, and before I knew it I was rushing home, hoping to just be let of with a few insults and glares thrown at me.

All the way, the slip of paper seemed to burning my leg where it lay in my pocket and I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing, but at least it reminded me I was alive, and I was a proper human being with the capability to feel no matter how many times my parents tried to tell me otherwise that night.

Pete, late that night:

beep

I groaned as the familiar buzz went off causing me to shoot up and out of bed.

1am.

Who's texting me at this time of night? Or should I say morning. I don't know, it is 1am as I said. I have a right to be confused you know. Looking at the number above the message, all it said was a bunch of numbers that my eyes were far too tired to make out. Opening up my phone to the message, I smiled to myself as I saw the simple 9 word sentence.

Hey, I found this number in a book, Gray?