Pretty. (Frerard, Petekey, Ryden, Peterick)

8: Like Romeo And Juliet But Without The Death

"Have you seen the new kid, Urie?" Pete asked, joining Brendon at his locker, having declared that the two of them were friends after the incident with Mikey in art, which kind of made Brendon regret saying anything at all. He did share a passionate hatred of Mikey Way with Pete though, or at least he thought so, not knowing the reality behind Pete's feelings towards the arrogantly homophobic asshole that was Mikey Way.

"No, why?" Brendon responded to Pete only out of the compulsion of manners, getting his books from his locker and putting them in his backpack without even a glance towards the other guy.

"He's pretty cute, y'know." Pete added, grabbing Brendon's attention immediately; the taller boy locking his locker and pulling his backpack up onto his shoulders and diverting his attention of Pete entirely at the mention of cute boys.

"I bet the cheer team are going to be all over him in like five seconds flat then." Brendon let out a sigh - all the cute ones were fucking straight, weren't they? Pete was literally the only gay guy he knew and he wasn't exactly bad looking, but Brendon knew there was no way he was going to be able to put up with that level of irritating on an even more frequent level than he already did.

"Actually, I heard that he's gay." Brendon's eyes widened at this, unsure of how much truth Pete's words held, if any at all, but at the mention of cute gay guys, Brendon wasn't quite stupid enough to be completely skeptical about this.

"What's his name? Is he in any of my classes?" Brendon spurted out and Pete wouldn't be surprised if he got out a notepad and started writing all of this down.

"What else? Do you want his address too?" Pete snorted, smirking at Brendon who didn't even blush, simply rolling his eyes because he was used to this from Pete by now.

"Shut up." Brendon shook his head, knowing that Pete was making him late to class with this bullshit, that he just happened to care a little too much about. "Just tell me - I'm late to music as it is."

"Perhaps you should just get to music and find out for yourself." Pete suggested with a winked and eyebrow rose into a position as straight as himself.

"Just fucking tell me what his name is, you ass." Brendon rolled his eyes, beyond fed up with Pete at this point. "And why you don't seem at all interested despite the fact he's cute and gay... he's not real... is he, Pete?"

"He is, I just have my affections set elsewhere." Pete explained winked at Brendon but mentioning no names for a very good reason, because although Brendon was particularly open minded, he doubted that anyone could possibly understand these messed feelings he had for a certain messed up person. Except Patrick, Patrick always seemed to understand Pete regardless of circumstance - Pete didn't know what he'd do without him.

"Meaning who?" Brendon asked, because even someone as ignorant as Pete knew that there wasn't a chance he wasn't going to be curious at the very least.

"How about I just tell you the name of your future husband and you pop off to music and seduce him, huh? How does that sound?" Pete asked, using the term 'future husband' all too casually, especially considering the fact that two of them hadn't even met yet.

"Sounds like you're avoiding the subject, but whatever, tell me about my 'future husband'." Brendon rolled his eyes, perhaps just a little eager to escape Pete and perhaps just a little too eager to assess the booty game of this new kid.

"His name, Brendon Urie, is Ryan Ross and one day I will be attending your wedding."

And let's just say that Pete wasn't wrong.

-

"Mr Urie - you're late." Came the voice of Mr Mitchell - a fat ginger man in his forties, who by his 'enthusiasm' Brendon could tell had once aspired of being in a band but his dreams had been rendered futile and was now stuck teaching music in a crappy high school, which Brendon wasn't all that surprised about, having heard his voice more than he'd like to since, the teacher insisted of performing a song or two every lesson almost as if his classes were episodes of X Factor.