I've always been like this. It's hard to fathom, but I always have.
This isn't a superhero story, as I'm sure, my dear reader, I am far from a superhero. Even now, as I sit writing my story, I will never be anything more than a human. But, perhaps, it is notable to tell you why I am writing this.
I, Ryan Ross, can read people's thoughts.
I can't think of a better way to put it. But there it is. My 'hidden talent', which is dreamed about and glamorized by comic books and movies, is real.
So here we go. This is my story.
_-_-_-_
I've always had a sharp hatred for school buses. I'm not quite sure why. The bright yellow color, the obnoxiously loud people, the asshole driver-
I remember why I hate buses now.
I remember because one just covered me in cold, brown slush. Of course, there is nobody to blame. The driver couldn't see.
But seriously, fuck buses.
I get to school wet. Thank god for 'waterproof' coats, right?
"Dude, what happened?" I hear from behind me. I turn around and I see none other than Spencer.
Spencer Smith is a... Particular character. He is the same as all other people, but different in his own way. I like that about him.
"I got splashed by a bus, what do you think?" I mumble, shrugging my coat off and setting it on my arm.
"I can drive you, you know that right?"
"Ew, no. Your mom is always there and she always asks super personal questions."
"Well that's not my fault!"
I open my locker, pushing my backpack in, silently praying nothing gets too wet. "I'm fine, spencer. I can fend for myself" I pick up my books, and turn around.
And Spencer's gone. Fantastic.
It is and always will be pathetic to do anything on your own in a school. Having people with you means you aren't a loner, and you have social skills. But come on, I don't need that, I'm strong. I can read minds for gods sake-
"Hey, do you know where Mr. Stump's class is?"
"Yea, I'm actually heading there-" I look up. Ive never seen this boy before. And that's strange for me, seeing as I have kept a subtle profile on most people in the school. "I don't think I've ever met you before, what's your name?"
The boy had the biggest brown eyes, only competed against by his lips. "Oh, I'm new here. I'm Brendon. Brendon Urie"
I nodded and gestured him to come along. "Well, let's go, 'Brendon Brendon Urie'" the boy, Brendon, giggled. Good god, that giggle.
There was a part of me that couldn't wait to know about him, he seemed nice enough, he seemed cute enough.
Is that shallow? It's cute, therefore I'm interested? No, probably not. And maybe there's more to him than there is to him. Maybe we'll have that in common. Please Brendon, don't be common.
