A Revolution On Canvas (Frerard)

1: We Have To Protect Each Other From The Heterosexuals

Frank nodded, making a move for the chair, when Brendon's eyes widened in such a manner that Frank didn't even deem scientifically possible, but whatever he wasn't a science teacher, now was he? "Is there something wrong?"

Brendon pointed behind Frank, and the twenty five year old turned to see nothing more than an open office door. "Haven't you ever heard of closing the goddamn door?" He slammed his fist against the table, as Frank stumbled to close it behind them, before then finally taking a seat.

"Sorry." He blushed for what was probably the millionth time in the past fifteen minutes.

"So, here's like your timetable and ten million pieces of paperwork that you should probably at least pretend to fill in or at least lie to me about maybe doing." Brendon smiled as he pushed a rather intimidating folder with Frank's name on it in front of him.

"Uhh... okay..." Frank nodded, if not a little hesitantly, because this was just about anything but what he'd been expecting.

"Look, okay, this is hardly the best school in the world, just please, please, please don't fuck the students, or set fire to it, or kill anyone, or go within like five miles of Agnes at reception, especially on Mondays because I think she threatened to decapitate me once." Brendon winced as he relived what was obviously a very traumatic memory. "So, you're room sixty eight B, and there's probably a map somewhere, but like all the rooms have numbers on, you'll find it eventually."

"You have a room A and a room B for each number?"

"No, oh, this was room sixty nine originally, but, uhh... that caused some problems, so we have a sixty eight A and a sixty eight B, and yeah, the last teacher that was in that room was called Mr Cocking, and well, room sixty nine, and let's just say that he isn't the same man as when he started, but don't let that put you off, he was old, students like young teachers, like you're like twenty something, pretty attractive, you'll be fine, just please don't sleep with the kids that flirt with you, like-"

"Are teacher student relationships a problem here?" Frank asked, his eyebrows raising a little.

"Nope, absolutely not, I'm just very paranoid, and you're going to be teaching a lesson in literally ten minutes so you might want to get yourself to room sixty nine, won't you Mr I-I... I... Ier-... Frank." And Frank found some sort of comfort in the fact that Mr Urie seemed to have as little of a clue as to what he was doing as Frank himself did.

"Room sixty eight B, you mean." Frank corrected him as he got to his feet, "it's I-"

"You know what, I'll just call you Frank, oh and don't forget to close the goddamn door!"

-

"Mr Lero?" A tall kid with what Frank could call nothing less than a truly tragic haircut squinted at the name scribbled on the board as he made his way in. "Aren't names supposed to have capital letters, hell, aren't you an English teacher as well, like I know this school's crap, but you should know that."

"It's Iero, that's an 'I' not an 'L'." Frank shook his head and made the 'I' more prominent with the whiteboard marker.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna call you Lero." The same kid shook his head as he sat down, leaving Frank to consider smashing his head against a wall as the rest of his very first class filtered in.

"Can anybody pronounce my name, or am I going to have to give up here?" Frank asked, glancing at his surname scribbled on the board with a defeated gaze.

"Nope." Added a kid on the back row with green hair that Frank probably should be telling him off for, but that was totally Frank in high school and he reckoned he would defy the unspoken rules of teaching by actually having a heart.