Fake You Out || Twenty One Pilots Fanfic || completed

.:t w e n t y:.

••• students from every corner of the school flooded in through the auditorium doors.

I kept my seat, and I welcomed Halsey to sit by me.

As always in the crowd we were the two most awkward and we didn't usually sit by big groups of people. Luckily, there had been two empty seats in the front row, in which we took as soon as we saw them.

I caught a glimpse of Mr. Thomas on the stage wing, looking through notecards which must have been the names of the kids speaking.

He was talking to someone backstage and I couldn't help but try and make out what he had been trying to say.

"Don't worry. You'll do great.." He mouthed.

Halsey nudged me, "So you really think I shouldn't ask Alex for the recording?"

She knocked me out of my thought process and I blinked away my doubts, "oh, what? Sorry I wasn't listening."

"Whatever. I'm getting that recording. ." She whispered as she slouched into her seat.

"No." I shouted unexpectedly, earning looks from people behind us.

She looked confused, and I felt guilty.

oh, so guilty.

"You don't want to hurt yourself even more than he already has, Halsey." I said sternly whispering as the lights dimmed.

She looked up at me in despair, "but I'm already broken, he couldn't push this any further."

I sighed. All the things she needed to hear. So many secrets and so little courage of me to tell. About that party. About that summer. About everything.

The lights began to turn to darkness as I whispered back, "just don't do it.."

She shook the thought off and feedback from the handheld mic echoed throughout the auditorium.

"Hello students of Susan B. Howard Hugh School!" Mr. Thomas boomed.

Everyone sat there silent.

"Come on people, it's a poetry reading don't get too excited." He smiled, opening his arms out trying to get at least a small reaction.

I laughed way too loud and everyone looked at me like I was some nutcase.

He cleared his throat and continued, "ahem, thanks. uh, whoever that was. Well let's start off with Jessica. Here you are."

He gestured to the mic as the familiar blonde stepped up to the mic with a neatly printed paper in her hands.

"Uh hi." The mic echoed with feedback again and earned disgusted sounds from the crowd. "Oh uhm, sorry. I was told to give an introduction as to why I wrote this and mine is.. Well I'll just say. There are many ways you could look at this poem and each of you will have a different interpretation. But I guess here it goes..

He'd shown her the stars,
and she gave up her heart,

but what she didn't know,
scarlet faded to snow.

But it didn't fade pink, so just step back and think.

Little trust is enough,
on the subject of love.

thank you."

The audience applauded and I followed. God, how I missed not being scared of walking into this class.

"Thanks Jessica, now we'll have Mark?"

Student after student, giving poems out that no one really cared to listen to. Snores were heard from behind me and no poems were given without expression, obviously from the reaction I got with the audience.

Mr. Thomas walked back onto stage with mic in hand. And yet I struggled to keep my eyes open.

He looked disappointed and spoke in a monotone, "oh and here's Brendon."

Brendon slumped and strutted onto the stage with his confidence evident. The crumbled up piece of paper was being unraveled by his strong hands and was nearly ripped as he began speaking.

"Hey." He smirked, earning whistles and hollers from the audience behind me. "So. I mean I'm not that good of a writer but I've got to pas this class.."

"Go Brendon!!" Someone yelled from behind.

He smiled. "So, here it goes."

Brendon took a deep breath and went on,

"He thinks that faith might be dead,
Nothing kills a man faster than his own head
He used to see dreams at night
But now he's just watching the backs of his eyes

He pretends that he's okay
But you should see
Him in bed late at night, he's petrified
Take me out, and finish this waste of a life."

And wow, how shocked was I.

The audience cheered and I caught myself clapping a lot harder than I should have.

"Harley." Halsey hit my arm.

"Sorry." I whispered.

Mr. Thomas's expression was a lot more than just disappointment, he seemed surprised and still proud.

"Well then." He shook Brendon's hand. "Marvelous job Mr. Urie."

Sighing, I slumped in my seat, knowing I was the reason Tyler hadn't performed. Knowing I was the reason he was pulling away from his passion.

"Thanks for your attention dear students, this concludes our poe-" mid sentence Jessica runs on stage, shoes squeaking as she runs over to Mr. Thomas, whispering something in his ear. "Well. There seems to be one last minute piece one of our students would like to present today. Tyler?"

Jessica as well as Brendon run off as Tyler walks, heavy on his feet, eyes baggy, posture low, depressed, up to the mic stand on the other side of the stage.

"Hello?" He croaked. His voice was cold.

Softly, another student rolls the ghetto keyboard our school likes to call a piano from behind Tyler.

"Uhm. Sorry I'm kind of holding you guys up and everything, and I know you really don't want to hear another boring poem but-"

Suddenly, through the light shining onto him, through all of the people in the whole entire room, he met eyes with me. His brown, soft eyes filled with innocence looked down onto me. Me. Of all people in that very moment, and he shrugged.

"I'm kind of working on this confidence issue I have, and I'd like to make an apology to someone I know doesn't think I forgive. But what I've learned this past week is..

Well you can't stay away from the thing that keeps you alive for too long."

And I swear, just hearing his voice made my insides turn to glass. Highly fragile glass.

He positioned his stand over the piano and spoke,

"I'd like to call this broken poem of a song, Lovely."