Teenagers

I tousled my black hair as I studied my outfit in the mirror. Black band-shirt, black skinny jeans, black converse, a typical outfit for me. I applied a thick ring of black eyeliner to my eyelids and smudged it.
“Gerard!” Called my younger brother Mikey from outside the door. “We have to get going!” I grabbed my phone and went out the door. Mikey tossed me my black and grey striped hoodie. I slipped it on before rushing out the door with Mikey to catch the bus.
I sat in the backseat of the bus. I pulled out my phone and searched my pockets for my headphones. All I found was a gum wrapper from god knows how long ago. Fuck. I guess I’m going without music today.
There were really only about three things I love in the world: Music, drawing, and my little brother. I hated the rest of the world. But could you really blame me? Everyone in the world is so hateful and judgemental. Especially towards gays, like me. And sometimes, I really hated being gay, because everyone in society judges you, or looks at you like you’re shit. Sometimes I really wish I was straight, cause God knows it’d make my life a hell of a lot easier.
We arrived at school around 7:50. Everyone piled out of the bus and to the front doors of the school, minus the kids who smoke weed at the back for the first five minutes. Mikey and I met up with Ray at the front office.
“Hey guys,” Ray said. “We still on for band practice tonight after school?”
“Yeah,” Mikey said, “I swear, My Chemical Romance is getting better with every rehearsal.” Ray and I nodded in agreement. Incase you haven’t been able to figure this out yet, My Chemical Romance is our band. I’m the singer, Mikey is our bassist, Ray plays guitar, and our friend Bob, who goes to a different school, is our drummer.
“But we could really use another guitar player,” I said with a sigh, “saying as how 90% of our music is written for two guitars.” Mikey and Ray agreed. The bell rang and we were released into our classes.
I walked up the hall to my first class, World History. I was on my phone, looking for a good place to buy new amps, because MCR desperately needed them.
“Hey faggot!” I heard someone yell from behind me. I took a deep breathe and put my phone into my pocket. I turned around to see Victor White towering over me. He wore the same horrific smelling jersey he wears almost everyday. He was bulky, in muscle and fat. He was a senior, but he’s failed so many times that he’s 20 now.
“What,” I said, extremely annoyed. I’ve been putting up with his bullshit for almost a year now. He didn’t necessarily scare me, rather just annoy the hell out of me.
He slammed me into a locker. I felt the lock grind into my back. “Playing with your bitches tonight?” He said, the grin of an idiot on his face.
“Don’t talk about my brother and Ray like that,” I said. I was older than the both of them, so I was always watching over them.
“Shut the fuck up you gaylord,” he said, pushing me harder against the locker. Someone pulled Victor off and started shouting at him. It was the music teacher, Mr. Mabbitt, who happens to be my favorite teacher. He sent Victor away.
“You okay Gerard?” He said. He was always telling me how I was his favorite student.
“Yeah,” I said, readjusting my shirt. I felt my back and winced. Victor must have bruised it on the lock.
“You had better be getting to class,” he said, studying his watch. “Listen, if he ever gives you problems again, come and tell me. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said. He patted me on the shoulder, then headed down the hall towards his room. What a great way to start the day.

Notes