Tell Me I'm A Bad Man [Teacher/Student Frerard]

One - They Gonna Clean Up Your Looks

Ray and I sat towards the front, in the second row, at a spare table. He put his bag on the desk, looking through it and pulling out a laptop. "That's Mr Way," he said. "but sometimes we call him Mikey." My eyebrows rose, but I didn't comment. I wasn't one to judge if teachers were fucking their students, though I didn't want to assume. I just wouldn't sleep with a teacher myself. "Anyway, uh, we have to research a genre of music that we like, including a few artists, and then we have to compose a piece of music in that genre. For example, Billie Joe, Mike and Tré," he pointed over at three boys in the corner. "are really into punk and pop-punk. They're working as a group, which we're allowed to do. And I'm working with Pete, but the little shit isn't here today."

I nodded slowly, peering at the screen of his laptop. "What kind of music are you into?"

"Uh...metal, I guess. I don't know. I'm really bad at, y'know, describing a genre or whatever. But I've been researching Metallica." He grinned proudly, and I nodded in approval.

We spent the rest of the lesson discussing our favorite bands, and he offered to let me join his group. He said that Pete wouldn't mind, so I accepted, because it would take me forever to think of something by myself, and I knew that Ray would be good to work with.

The lesson ended, and my next class was art. Oh, how thrilled I was to be learning art. With Mr G. Way. Perhaps he was Mikey - sorry, Mr Way's brother? Whatever. I didn't particularly care. Ray had to go to math, which was in the opposite direction to my art class (apparently), so I had to make my own way. And, predictably, I got lost.

Ten minutes later, I found the classroom, and when I walked in, the teacher had already begun his lesson. I take back what I said about not fucking teachers; I'd fuck this one in a heartbeat. His hair was bright red, but I couldn't see what color his eyes were from my position by the door. He was hot and pretty at the same time, with a cute nose and pale skin. And he was wearing the tightest pants I'd ever seen a grown man wear.

"Glad you could join us." He said in a smooth voice, looking me up and down. "And you are...?"

"Frank Iero." I liked his looks, but I did not like his attitude. "Sir."

"Sit down." It was a demand, and a hot one, at that.

I sat in the only spare seat, next to a brown-haired kid with glasses. He gave me a smile and pointed the corner of his black sketchbook towards me. 'Patrick Stump' was written neatly on a white sticker, and I gave him a little salute, complete with a smirk, in return. The sound of a book slamming on the desk made me jump, and I looked around to see Mr Way's pissed-off expression.

"If you would be so kind enough as to write your name on this and not distract the rest of my students." He snapped, and I got out my pen.

"Gladly." I scrawled my name on the white sticker in the top, right-hand corner of the sketchbook. "There you go, are you happy now?"

He just scowled and went back to teaching. Huh. If you could even call it teaching. I would just call it talking shit. Maybe he wasn't even a real teacher. Who knows? Something hit the back of my head and I turned around, seeing a grinning, dark-haired boy.

"Someone's gotten Sir's panties in a bunch." He whispered, and I rolled my eyes, smirking.

"Shh, Brendon." Patrick hissed, glaring the boy behind me. "You'll get us all into trouble."

Brendon just winked. "You sitting with us today, Patty?"

"Of course I am, why are you asking me?"