"Ryan, you are literally the worst person in the world." Megan proceeded to tell Ryan just what he was already so very well aware of as the two walked through town, and Ryan found himself detailing to Megan just what kind of mess he'd convinced Mr Urie to get himself into.
"Personally," Ryan tried his best to look the slightest bit offended, "I think," he continued, meeting Megan's gaze, "that this is nothing but fantastic for the school, and for Brendon, who will be expanding his knowledge of the students and their absolutely fantastic acting abilities."
"But The Fault In Our Stars, of all things, seriously-"
"Megan, you have an entire wall of your bedroom covered and dedicated solely to posters to 5 Seconds Of Summer so I really don't know how you think you have the audacity to kinkshame me on this one." Ryan met her with a rather stern look, and in all honesty, he did have a point.
"Yes but unlike The Fault In Our Stars, 5 Seconds Of Summer are actually good." Megan snapped, rolling her eyes, and leaving Ryan with the rather severe struggle of trying not to burst out into a fit of laughter.
"That is..." Ryan paused for a moment, wondering just whether there was a single word he could use to convey his point with a minimal chance of Megan slapping him. "Debatable?"
Megan shot him a warning look. "You know that I will not put our friendship before 5SOS, Ryan, I have warned you. And I've warned you many times."
"What happened to bros before hoes, Megan?" Ryan looked a little offended, although he was making a point of not letting it get to him, as the likelihood was that Megan would have dropped it all within the next thirty seconds.
"Ryan, are you calling Michael Clifford a h-"
"Nope." Ryan bit his lip rather forcefully and made quite the point out of shaking his head. "Absolutely not. Michael's the bro, I'm the ho."
"But then it'd be incest, Ryan, and you know I'm going to put 5SOS before all basic moral values as well, so like, even if Michael was my brother, I would still fuck him without question. You should know that by now." And Megan looked at Ryan like he was the one being weird.
"Megan-"
"Don't you dare 'Megan' me. I'm..." Megan let out a sigh: feeling that she was being severely kinkshamed in that moment, and she most definitely did not find herself appreciating it at all. "Come on, it's not that weird of a thing to say. If Mr Urie was your brother, you'd still fuck him, wouldn't you-"
"Megan, I think the point is that if he was my brother I wouldn't have fallen in love with him in the first place-" It was too late before Ryan quite realised just what he had said.
"Ohmyfuckinggod-" Megan's voice changed to mirror that of a vulture in severe amounts of pain.
"Megan- no, I-" Ryan's attempts to fix the situation, were however, of course, futile.
"You love him." Megan told Ryan what he, unfortunately, already knew. "You're in love with him."
"Megan-"
"Oh my god, this is so perfect, I'm literally going to-"
"Megan-"
"This is the best thing that has ever happened to me-"
"Megan, this isn't even your fucking relationship for god's sake, can you just shut the absolute fuck up for like one fucking second, because I just didn't even mean to say that, I just, I-" Ryan came to a halt as he suddenly began to feel really quite dizzy. "I think I need to sit down."
Megan was desperate to argue her point but came to conclude that there was a time and a place, and she gave Ryan a nod and followed him out of the crowds of people, and the two found themselves sitting down on an area of grass besides the carpark of some store. Megan decided that it was now that was the perfect time to insist that Ryan was in constant denial with himself.
"So, you didn't even mean to say it, but that doesn't mean that you didn't mean it." Megan finished, watching as Ryan glanced at her from where he was sat: knees pulled up to his chest, and looking, in all honesty, a little less than calm.
"Megan, just... shut the fuck up for a minute, okay?" Ryan let out a sigh, before stretching out his legs and fixating his gaze upon his surroundings for just a moment as he contemplated his existence, amongst other things. It was just the matter of Brendon Urie that was plaguing his mind, because this thing- relationship they had between them, had never meant to be quite so serious, but what Ryan felt did absolutely not scream 'casual sex' and 'nothing at all'. "So..." He began to speak, "Brendon Urie. Yes, I'm in love with Brendon Urie. That's a... thing. And we're a thing. And honestly just things, I just ugh-"
"I'm pretty sure he loves you too- no, I'm certain." Megan placed a comforting hand on Ryan's shoulder.
"How can you know for sure?" Ryan found himself asking: his heart instinctively leaping in his chest.
"Who the fuck would put on a play based on The Fault In Our Stars, and just, just because you asked?" Megan had a very, very good point, and quite the smug look to accompany it; Megan knew she was right, and Ryan knew that, and Ryan knew that Megan knew that he knew it.
"It's to help him get to know more of the students, not for my own personal enjoyment- what the actual fuck are you saying?" Ryan did try, if only momentarily, to look offended, but he just really didn't get very far.
"If you want to give Mr Urie more time to get to know other students, you should spend less time fucking him, let's be real here." Megan found herself brutally wrecking Ryan there with absolutely no remorse, which was perhaps that just little bit harsh of her, but she had a point; she definitely had a point.
"Fuck off, Megan, at least I didn't go and buy two fucking guinea pigs for literally no reason." Ryan rolled his eyes, knowing fully well that the reason Megan did buy those guinea pigs was because he'd been too busy sitting on Mr Urie, whilst they were both largely naked, to text her back and tell her not to.
"I bought them for a reason!" Megan was pretty much yelling at this point, and in truth, she was just very protective over her guinea pigs, which was, of course, understandable. "They are Guinea Jahmed and I love them very much. You should come and meet them, you know?"
"Megan, I genuinely can't come and meet your guinea pigs though, like not to be a dick, but your mum literally won't let me in the house after I burned down half of your living room, and honestly, that was like a good four months ago, so she should have really let it go by now." Ryan was mildly disappointed, but largely relieved that he'd decided to sit in the world's ugliest armchair, which resided in Megan Clifford's living room, and absent mindedly click his lighter, just so he didn't have to go and pretend to give a shit about two oversized fluffy rats as not to hurt Megan's feelings.
But, of course, they weren't just any two oversized fluffy rats, but two oversized fluffy rats that Megan had named after two people she were convinced of existing and being madly in love with each other in the version of the Smiths that Ryan had completely made up on the spot a good few weeks or so ago now.
Ryan took a moment to wonder if he should probably just let Megan down with the truth before it was too late and she got pregnant somehow and named her first born child after Michael Smith, who she was, of course, wholeheartedly convinced was the lead singer of the Smiths.
"Look, Ryan," Megan offered him an optimistic smile, "I'll buy a wig, and you can wear that, and I'll tell my mum you're my Spanish exchange student called Juan or something."
"And she's definitely going to believe that, isn't she?" Ryan was, well, less than convinced, to say the least. "Look, we'll just have to accept the unfortunate truth that I can't go and look at the guinea pigs that you really shouldn't have bought, and..." Ryan found himself raising his voice out of sheer anxiety. "Speaking of unfortunate truths..."
"What?" Megan looked immediately concerned, "what is it? Has Michael Clifford died and you've not told me as to retain my mental stability, in which case please keep lying to me I'd rather not face up to the truth."
"Uhh..." Ryan looked a little confused, "no, but it's sort of like that. It's Michael Smith."
"Oh my god has my senpai died?" Megan now proceeded to look even more distraught, and well, this was just looking fucking fantastic for Ryan.
"Well, no. It's just- Megan, Michael Smith isn't a real person!"
"What?" In response there was a rather horrified kind of half screech, half exclamation, and really, Ryan had expected this kind of thing, but what he hadn't expected was for it not to come from Megan. All in all, Megan seemed just as confused as he did.
Standing just about a metre away from them on the footpath was a really lanky, vaguely tall guy with very non descript average teenage cis straight white boy brown hair and clothing choices.
"Who the fuck are you?" Ryan retorted, looking over him and his rather blatant heterosexuality in true and utter disgust.
"I'm Michael Smith!" The non descript fuckboy responded. "I do exist. I'm in your geography- well, I mean, you've showed up about twice to that lesson so, I mean, it would make sense that you don't know who I am, but hi Ryan, I do actually exist."
Ryan looked at Megan for a moment; her eyes were rapidly growing wider and she looked like was going to explode: something that happened regularly, and often in response to new pictures of Michael, as in Michael Clifford, and not Michael Smith - not Michael Smith from the Smiths but Michael Smith from geography, but really both Michael Smiths but- well, actually there only was one Michael Smith since Ryan had made the one from the Smiths up but Megan didn't know that... or did she? Because Ryan did genuinely just have the least clue as to what the absolute fuck was going on.
"Oh my god..." Megan finally uttered as Michael Smith walked over to them. "You're Michael Smith." She looked up at him with adoration in her eyes.
"Uhh..." Michael flushed a shade of bright pink, "yeah. I'm Michael Smith. I... uhh... sorry, I don't know who you are, I don't mean to be rude-"
"I'm Megan!" Megan exclaimed, getting up to make quite the point out of shaking his hand. "Megan Clifford. That's like the same as Michael Clifford from 5 Seconds Of Summer, except we're not actually married yet, so I'm single. Are you single, Michael Smith?"
Ryan just sat there, hand clasped over his mouth in shock as he came to assume that perhaps Megan had, somehow, managed to come to the conclusion that this Michael Smith who was apparently in his fucking geography class, like Ryan wasn't even aware that he took geography, but apparently he did, was somehow the Michael Smith from the version of the Smiths that Ryan had made up for god knows what reason at this point.
"I..." Michael Smith from geography continued to look increasingly flustered as a girl seemed to show any interest in him for seemingly the first time in his life, and honestly, Ryan fucking knew the only reason Megan was being like this was because she thought he was in the Smiths, because honestly, the guy looked like a string bean with greasy hair. Oh, straight people. "I'm single." Michael concluded, "so Megan, I don't... I don't think we have any classes together, I mean, I haven't seen you before, I..."
"Oh, that's such a shame, I... no, I think I really would have noticed you, Michael Smith, my grunge hero." She burst into awkward white girl laughter, and Michael Smith from geography was just too caught up in the fact that he might not actually remain a virgin for the entirety of his life to notice the fact that she'd just referred to him as her 'grunge hero'.
"Megan, you're such a lovely person, honestly, I-"
"Hey, Michael, do you want to come and see my guinea pigs- that's not actually a euphemism. I actually bought two guinea pigs, do you want to come and see them?" Michael looked a little flustered but nodded nonetheless. "Hey, Ryan, do you want to come under the guise of Juan, or-"
"Megan, I think I... I'm just feeling suddenly incredibly sick and ill and maybe I'm dying, but don't worry about me, you and Michael Smith just go off and guinea pigs and chill, and I'll just go somewhere that isn't where you are, bye." And with that, Ryan leapt to his feet and made a run for it: down the footpath and away from his responsibilities and all the mistakes that Megan was about to make that were likely his fault, to some degree.
-
Michael Smith (from geography), hadn't been exactly sure as to what Megan had meant when she'd invited him to come and see her guinea pigs, but Michael was a seventeen year old boy and Megan was pretty so he'd be pretty content in signing off his entire existence to her without much explanation or reason to.
In all honestly, Michael was just that little bit confused as to what the actual fuck had just happened, as at one point had just been walking down a path on his way home, and that fucking asshole kid Ryan Ross was rather loudly proclaiming that he didn't exist, so of course, he made a point of correcting the guy, now suddenly this girl called Megan that he'd known all of fourteen minutes was trusting him to hold one of her guinea pigs as she went and got her laptop from upstairs.
Michael felt that somehow everything rested on him not somehow managing to drop or harm this guinea pig in the two minutes that it took her to return, and that really put on a lot of pressure, so Michael, who had never really been a particular guinea pig lover or anything of that ilk, was understandably feeling rather stressed as he continued to hold the fatter of Megan's two guinea pigs for what was now definitely dragging onto be a longer amount of time than necessary.
He suddenly had a horrific thought that the guinea pig might shit or piss all over his hands, because that was something that could definitely happen, since guinea pigs were animals, and animals were perhaps notorious for excreting all over you at the worst possible moments, and Michael didn't reckon he was particularly attractive to girls he'd known for fifteen minutes as it was, and even less so with his hands covered in guinea pig shit. Although, if this guinea pig did shit on him, then at least it'd still be in his hands and not dying on the floor, because if he somehow managed to injure it then he absolutely did not doubt the fact that Megan would make quite the point out of injuring him to even more dramatic degree.
Thankfully, however, the door soon opened to reveal a rather flustered looking Megan, who shot him an awkward smile before setting her laptop down on the coffee table of her living room, but made no effort in the matter of relieving Michael of his guinea pig holding duties, which was something that Michael found himself growing increasingly nervous about, because surely it would be rude to ask if he could put it down, but the longer he held this guinea pig, the greater the risk of it shitting on him was, because realistically, it had to shit at some point, and Michael was totally at its mercy in that respect, and he was most certainly not having a good time, and-
"Micheal..." Megan began, looking up at him with slightly raised eyebrows, "no offense like, but I think you're squeezing him," she gestured to the one half of guinea Jahmed that Michael held in his hands, "like I think he might puke on you if you don't put him back in the cage. No offense like, I know you love to hold him, but... would you love his puke?"
Michael made no effort to answer that question and instead put the guinea pig back into its cage as quick as humanly possible: closing the cage again with a sigh of relief, before turning back to Megan with an extremely awkward smile. He took a moment to wonder just what the fuck he was actually doing in her house, like, he was actually beginning to think that she had just genuinely wanted him to appreciate her guinea pigs, and well, that was slightly... slightly disappointing, but, he'd put the guinea pig down now and she wasn't in much of a hurry when it came to asking him to leave, so perhaps, just perhaps, there was hope for him.
"Do you want to sit down?" Megan looked up at him again, and asked, gesturing towards the space on the sofa next to her. "I mean, unless you just like standing up, which is fine, I mean, you've got really long legs and you had to grow them somehow, so you must have had a lot of practice."
"What?" Michael wasn't entirely sure as to just what the fuck Megan had implied there.
"Your legs. You must have stood up a lot for them to grow so much." She nodded at him and continued to gesture to the space beside her, and eventually Michael just decided to sit down beside her.
"I don't know if that's how it works." Michael found himself unable to stop himself disputing just whatever the fuck Megan was actually implying here.
"No." She shook her head: looking far too casual and just far too sure of herself. "No, you must be wrong. Ryan told me it was like that, and that's why he's tall because once he was at Walmart and he was standing in a queue for a good hour, like, that's the secret. And I mean, Ryan's clever, he knows what he's talking about. I mean he is tall, he would know."
"Uhh..." Michael was just... well... just... confused beyond anything else. "I think it's just genetic, actually."
Megan gave a nod, "yeah, his mum spends a lot of time standing in queues too, you see. She does the grocery shopping and she always goes when it's busiest, I have no idea why, but maybe she just wants to be taller, because she's not actually that tall. Maybe his dad, is like seven feet tall, I mean, he could be, I've never met his dad. Maybe he could have gone off to stand in queues twenty four seven so he could be really tall, and then maybe one day he'll return home, but no- no, that's not it. I think his mum and his dad got a divorce. Yeah, that's it. But his dad, his dad could be standing in a queue. Who knows? I mean, I don't know where his dad is, I mean, Ryan doesn't even know where his dad is, so like-"
"Oh... uhh..." Michael felt just that little bit awkward, to say the least. "Yeah... I..."
"Does your mum do a lot of standing in queues? Has your dad run off to go become tall?" Megan continued to ask him, and well, at first, Michael had thought that she'd been playing a joke on him, or maybe that her sarcastic tone of voice wasn't very exaggerated or anything like that, but as it dragged on, he became increasingly and horrifically aware of the fact that Megan was actually convinced that this was how it worked.
"I... I... guess." Michael gave a nod, finding it easier just to play along than actually explain the growing process to this girl that had apparently neglected to pay any attention in any form of biology ever, and had instead turned to Ryan Ross for help. "About my mum, that is. My dad is still... they're still together."
"Oh." Megan gave a smile and a nod. "So are my parents, but neither of them are very tall- hey, I need to show you something and it's really important!" Megan suddenly exclaimed, turning to the laptop, and leaving Michael more confused than he ever had been before as she began to type something into google- no, she'd just googled google, and now, she was typing into the google homepage, right okay. "Right, don't kinkshame me for this, okay?"
"Kinkshame you?" Michael's eyes widened as he attempted to comprehend just what the actual fuck Megan could have meant. "What do you mean... kinkshame you-... I..." Michael was given no form of explanation and instead had no option but to watch as Megan opened youtube and typed 'zayn pillowtalk' into the search bar.
"Don't kinkshame me, Michael, but I'm beginning to find a love for Zayn inside of myself." Megan turned to him, with a hand on her heart- and well, technically, it was on her boob, and well, that was besides the point - she was being really sincere about it. "I mean, he was so fucking rude to Louis on twitter, and I'm not even that much of a Directioner, I mean I am, of course, but I am loyal to 5SOS first and foremost, but well, Zayn's not even in One Direction anymore, so I just- look, Michael, I think... I'm going to take you on an emotional journey, just watch this music video and you'll understand." Megan pressed play and put it on fullscreen, before leaning back in the sofa, and then placing her head on Michael's shoulder which was a move that he wasn't the least bit prepared for.
As the music video began to play and she was certain that Michael was fixated upon Zayn, she discreetly took her phone from her pocket and began to casually send Ryan a text.
'I'm putting him through some certain tests. He likes the guinea pigs so all is good there, but I'm now gauging his reaction to Pillowtalk.'
She followed up the text message with a series of about twenty seven random and unrelated emojis, that Ryan would have been totally prepared just to copy and send back to her, but for once he found that what Megan had wanted to tell him actually made any kind of impact on his life whatsoever.
'You don't seriously like fucking Michael Smith from my geography class???'
Ryan had been forgetting that, of course, Megan was somehow convinced that this was Michael Smith from the Smiths, well, the version of the Smiths that she was convinced of existing. Which was totally Ryan's fault.
'He's Michael Smith. Of course I like him. And he seems to be appreciating Zayn. Should I show him Jet Black Heart or Good Girls? I think Good Girls because I have to gauge his reaction to the word 'daddy'.'
Megan added the usual series of unrelated emojis before pressing send and awaited Ryan's reply; it came rather quickly, as Ryan was literally sat clutching his phone with the utmost regret at that moment in time.
'Megan. He looks like a string bean.'
Megan found herself suddenly feeling incredibly offended, so much so, in fact, that she considered stopping being Ryan's friend permanently just on the basis of that incredibly horrific insult.
'He's Michael Smith! And you can't say shit because at least he actually wanted to come and see my guinea pigs, unlike you.'
Megan let out a sigh and put her phone down as the video finished: turning to Michael with a grin on her face. "So, what was your review?"
"So that's the guy that left 1D?" Michael asked: somehow having not been able to quite gather that now; Megan made a mental note about Michael being somewhat mentally slow, but she brushed it off momentarily, because her indie senpai, Michael Smith, from the Smiths, who just happened to be in the same geography class as her best friend, was sat next to her, watching the pillowtalk music video with her.
"Yes." Megan stressed, looking at Michael with disbelief, "yes, his name is Zayn Malik, and I used to have slightly negative opinions about him but pillowtalk changed my life. What do you think?"
"It's a good song." Michael offered: looking at her awkwardly, as in truth, he really didn't have that much opinion about the guy who left 1D and his solo stuff.
"Wow, that's so..." Megan paused for a moment, "that's really profound, I mean, you just managed to say so much in four words, that's like. You just... you're Michael Smith, and you just... your head works like that: profoundly. You summed up so much in so little and I'm... it's a good song." It took Michael a moment, but of course, Megan was being entirely sincere. "It's a good song." She repeated: smiling to herself.
"Yeah." Michael gave a nod: allowing her to assign him all the credit she somehow thought that he was due. "It's a good song."
"Right," she continued, turning to him, "have you ever heard of 5 Seconds Of Summer?"
"No, I don't... I don't- did they do... what was it? Looks So Perfect?"
Megan let out a deep sigh. "She Looks So Perfect." She paused for a moment, "well, I think you have a lot to learn but that's not going to be a problem, because, don't worry, I'm quite the expert."
-
"What the actual fuck is going on?" Frank spoke what was likely on everyone's minds as they glanced over the poster for 'The Fault In Our Stars: The Musical' in the staffroom.
"I have no idea." Gerard added from over his shoulder: finding himself looking over the poster with the kind of ill fitting curiosity you had when you saw something horrible about to happen, but you just couldn't look away.
"Was this made in Pic Collage?" Frank asked, gesturing to the poster, and upon further inspection, he could confirm that yes, the it still had the Pic Collage logo on in the corner. "This is... what is going on?"
Gerard gestured to Brendon's name written below the title in what was literally the world's least appealing font after Comic Sans, "this explains a lot." He let out a sigh as he caught Frank's gaze. "So, he's decided for some godforsaken reason to do a terrible musical rendition of an already terrible book? Well, it's going to be 'entertaining' to watch to some degree at least."
The poster was that beautiful Fault In Our Stars shade of blue with 'The Fault In Our Stars: The Musical' written at the top in one of the default Pic Collage fonts, and then below it 'written and directed by Brendon Urie', in a slightly different default font. Below the titles, they'd taken a picture of Hazel and Augustus from the film and badly added the school logo onto their shirts, along with a speech bubble coming from Augustus that read 'this could be you!', and one from Hazel that read, 'come along to the auditions on Wednesday at ten am'. And there was, of course, that quality Pic Collage logo in the corner, and then... what also looked like Brendon's face really small in the corner, which maybe have been perhaps left there by accident.
"Yeah, I suppose so, I mean..." Frank shook his head in disbelief, "how many kids do you bet are going to go along to 'audition' just to get out of lessons?"
"To the nearest hundred?" Gerard asked: a smile upon his face.
"Honestly, I just have so many questions, I-"
"Maybe we'll have to go along to watch the auditions and find out. Ask the director himself." Gerard failed to prevent himself in letting out a snort as he spoke, because the mental image of Brendon Urie being in charge of anything and it not doing pathetically wrong was just so unbelievably preposterous.
"Director." Frank mocked him in much the same tone. "The director of a trainwreck. The Fault In Our Stars, more like The Fault In Our Fucking Acting And Directing Abilities As A School."
"Not as catchy though." Gerard flashed him a smile as he absent mindedly leaned closer to him. "You've got to admit, not nearly as catchy."
-
"What the actual fuck is going on?" Frank found himself repeating come Wednesday at ten am, as he and Gerard stood at the edge of the school hall and watched a rather large group of students gather around a rather smug looking Brendon Urie, who had set up the school hall to look a lot like the X Factor stage, yet he just hadn't quite succeeded, which might have something to do with the fact that it was very obvious that he'd pulled this altogether in the span of about twelve minutes.
It wasn't until Gerard spotted Ryan sat rather smugly at the other side of the hall with a fucking Starbucks cup next to him on the floor, that he really put all of this together. "This all happened because Ryan Ross wanted an excuse not to go to lessons, didn't it?"
Frank's eyes widened suddenly and proceeded to follow Gerard's gaze across the room to Ryan. "Oh my god. Holy fuck, I think you might actually be right, because Mr Urie really is that kind of stupid where he'd just- oh my god." Frank came to a halt as Ryan looked up: having noticed that the two of them were staring, and gave them a grin and a wave. "What a little shit. I both respect him immensely and want to kill him."
Gerard snorted, "you totally want to make up some bullshit play to get out of teaching English now, don't you?"
"No...." Frank flushed a deep shade of red. "Why would I possibly want to do that?"
Gerard rolled his eyes, "I think we might get a whole school ban on plays and musicals of all kinds after this, though." He gestured vaguely at Mr Urie and the mob of students surrounding him as he spoke.
"I think we might get a whole school ban on many things after this." Frank added; the two of them fixated upon just what the actual fuck Mr Urie was actually trying to accomplish here to the extent that they didn't notice the fact that Ryan had moved from his spot at the other side of the room until he was right in front of them.
"Hey guys," Ryan began, all too fucking nonchalantly, like he wasn't the one really responsible for all of this mess. "Hyped for the musical?"
"Hyped?" Frank raised his eyebrows at his word choice there. "Are you?" He countered in the place of answering, "didn't take you as one for John Green novels, Ryan."
"I will fucking fight you, The Fault In Our Stars is goals. And if you hate on it you're literally just telling all people with cancer that they don't matter and they're boring." Ryan formed what was of course a perfectly reasonable and logical opinion there.
"No," Frank's face gave way to a grimace, "not at all. I'm just saying that John Green's writing doesn't matter and it's unoriginal and boring-"
"What?" Ryan looked genuinely offended, "and you would know?"
"Yeah, I would." Frank retorted with the kind of passion that had Gerard hiding his face in his hands in order to prevent himself from laughing. "I'm a fucking English teacher, Ryan, and I'm pretty sure you haven't gone to an English class in four months."
"Three months." Ryan corrected him with a glare. "Although I would turn up to your lessons because from what Megan says you do actually do fucking nothing, so that's pretty chill, but like I'm not in your class- anyway. The Fault In Our Stars. A work of art, and you're just a shitty English teacher, like you've ever written a book. How would you know?"
Frank let out one hell of a sigh and took a moment to assess just how much he wanted to win this argument. "Well..." He took another sigh just for the hell of it, "when I was eighteen, I was really into..." Frank took another sigh and made a mental note to reassess his life, "Supernatural. The TV show, you know? And well... when I was eighteen, I did kind of write this hundred thousand word fanfiction about Dean and Castiel, that did I kind of self publish later having changed the names. I made about six dollars off it but it fucking counts. So suck on that."
"I have nothing to say other than what the fuck." Ryan told him blankly, before pulling out his cellphone and glancing back across the hall at Mr Urie. "Brendon wants you two to help him judge. He says this isn't a request but part of your jobs and he will fire you if you don't." And with that, Ryan flashed them a grin, before turning away and making his way back towards his Starbucks cup.
"Well..." Frank let out a sigh, doing anything but making eye contact with Gerard, and severely regretting sharing that horrific piece of information about himself in order to win what was ultimately a pointless argument. "Guess we better go judge then-"
"Was that a joke?" Gerard asked, grabbing him by the shoulder and holding his gaze, "the Supernatural thing?"
"Uhh..." Frank pulled away for a moment: his cheeks flushing red.
"Oh my god." Gerard shook his head in disbelief. "It was."
"This was almost seven years ago." Frank told him: desperate to protect his dignity. "And, god I bet you've fucking- just... I... it's not that pathetic, okay?"
Gerard's face gave way to a smile. "Never said it was pathetic. Personally, I want to read it."
"No way." Frank's response was instant and very stern.
"What was it called?" Gerard asked: having an oddly genuine interest in the Destiel fanfiction that Frank had written nearly seven years ago. It was just that platonic hypothetical friendship love that they shared between them, of course.
"Of Angels And Men." Frank found himself responding.
"So did you rip off the plot of Of Mice And Men as well or just the title?" Gerard asked him with a grin.
"Fuck off." Frank rolled his eyes, before turning to Mr Urie, "we've got to go do some fucking... judging... now... Emphasis on the judging, come on." He glanced back at Gerard, who was just checking his phone, but unbeknownst to Frank, googling the name of that Destiel fanfiction and bookmarking it to read later.
-
It soon became apparent that Brendon was actually somewhat convinced that they couldn't do auditions without making it a weird knock off version of X Factor, in which, for some reason, he was Simon Cowell. He'd pulled a table up from somewhere, and stuck an A2 piece of paper with a massive 'X' written across it in marker pen to the front of it, and after sitting down at one of the chairs behind it, he'd blackmailed Frank and Gerard into sitting down with him with the threat of firing them, and blackmailed Ryan... Ryan Ross the seventeen year old shitlord who he was not so discreetly having a sexual relationship with... with the threat of throwing his Starbucks into the bin.
From what Frank had gathered, Ryan had already been allocated the part of Augustus on the basis that this whole ordeal was his fault, and Brendon informed them that he'd given himself the part of the narrator as he'd described them as beautiful in the script and there was just no one else able to accurately play that part.
Frank had also noted that due to the amount of people wanting to get time out of class and had therefore auditioned, he'd probably end up missing the English class he actually had to teach next, but in all honesty, he was pretty sure that a good half of the kinds in that class were actually in the line to audition for this fucking piece of shit play.
In all honesty, Frank just really wanted to read this elusive script that Brendon had mentioned, because up until that point he hadn't actually imagined that Brendon had gone to put so much effort into this as actually writing out a proper script as opposed to just making it all up as he went along. Frank could hope that he'd make people read out a section as they auditioned, but from the whole false X Factor vibe going on he wouldn't be all that surprised if he just asked them to do a fucking One Direction cover on the spot or something like that. Of course, that had no way to convey their acting talents, but Frank was pretty confident that was the kind of play where acting talent really wasn't necessary.
"Right guys," Brendon finally addressed the group of students ready to 'audition' and totally not just waste away time when they should have been in lessons, because it wasn't like that was the actual reason why everyone besides Brendon himself was here. "Form a line and we'll get the auditions going. It's a musical, so I want you to come up and do a cover of any song you like, if you can't fucking- freaking sing then too bad, like it's musical guys, we need to have standards."
Frank flashed a rather unconvinced look at Gerard, who appeared somewhat distant and was in fact more focused on his phone than what Frank was saying to him, but Frank didn't push the matter, as within seconds, he turned back to face the students and found that the person at the front of the line was Emilie Sodden, and well, Frank didn't like laughing at students and making fun of them, but sometimes you really just couldn't help yourself.
"Alright," Brendon leaned back in his chair in a rather indiscreet attempt to ask Ryan his initial opinion. "What's she like?" He asked, his tone hushed, but finding himself forgetting that he'd set up fucking microphones at the 'judges' table'; Ryan was well aware of this, but decided not to inform Brendon, and instead just leaned away from his microphone as he responded.
"It's going to be interesting, that's all I'm saying. Bad interesting." Ryan whispered, before turning back and flashing Emilie an exceedingly fake smile.
Brendon gave a nod, before making eye contact with Emilie again, "so, what part are you auditioning for?"
"I don't know." Emilie told him, "what parts are there? How am I supposed to know if we haven't been told the parts?"
"How am I supposed to know if we haven't been told the parts?" Brendon mocked her in an excessively whiny tone of voice: forgetting about the microphone once more, but thankfully, the rest of the hall began to laugh. "Have you not read The Fault In Our Stars? What are you doing here if you haven't read The Fault In Our Stars?" Of course, Brendon had to admit that he hadn't read it either, but that was irrelevant.
"I have a strong passion for music and theatre." She looked visibly distraught and began to fold her arms. "It seems that you do not."
"I run this school, so shut up unless you want me to expel you," Brendon paused for a moment: coming to realise that he didn't actually have the slightest clue what her name was. He turned to Ryan for help: microphone still on, of course. "What's her name?"
"Emilie." Ryan informed him, glancing out at the crowd of students awkwardly.
"Alright," Brendon continued, turning back to face Emilie, "Alright, Emile, if that really is your name, just shut up, and sing your song or leave and go back to class, okay?"
"Emilie," Gerard spoke up from the end of the table: being the fucking nice guy he was. "You could audition for Hazel. She's the female lead."
Emilie seemed to look spurred on by the mental image of herself playing the main part in a play and suddenly looked very, very enthusiastic. Ryan was suddenly hit with the realisation, that as Augustus, he would have to kiss whoever was Hazel, and he would absolutely rather kill himself than kiss Emilie Sodden.
"Or you could be... Hazel's mum... or.... girl #1... or girl #2... or... you could be a guy... I mean... fuck those gender roles, you could be an amazing Isaac." Ryan spoke up rather nervously: having not read the script and being very unaware of the extreme levels of sexual tension Brendon had written between Isaac and Augustus.
"No," Emilie flashed him a smile: unaware that Ryan was confirmed as Augustus, because technically Mr Urie wasn't really allowed to give out parts on the basis of who was sucking his dick. "I want to be Hazel." She turned back to Brendon, "I'm auditioning for Hazel."
"Okay," Brendon had just about caught onto Ryan's thought process here and was trying his best to fight back a fit of laughter. "What are you going to sing?"
Emilie took a deep breath. "I Will Always Love You By Whitney Houston."
"Oh my fucking god." Frank couldn't even attempt to censor himself at that point, and found himself leaning into Gerard's side for support and a way to disguise his laughter. Somewhere at the back of the queue, Megan was crying and screaming about the Frerard moment that had occurred just before her eyes.
Needless to say, Emilie did not get the part.
-
The following auditions were vaguely non-descript, and Gerard lost interest to the point that he was just on his phone under the table, and would have even considered reading Frank's Destiel fanfiction if the guy wasn't sit right beside him, and glancing at him every ten seconds, which was not something that Gerard had actually really taken note of before, but definitely something that he did regularly.
And Gerard found himself perfectly content in playing Neko Atsume under the table, until a voice that he instantly recognised stepped up, and just like that, his phone was away and his gaze was up in less than a second flat.
"I'm auditioning for the part of Hazel." Muddy Warter said with entirely too much excitement; Ryan practically shit himself at the prospect of kissing Muddy and her severely unblended lipstick that looked more like she'd crushed the blood of several small animals onto her skin than anything else.
"Oh... okay, Muddy." Brendon flashed her a fake smile, and tried to hide the fact that he'd literally kill himself than have her play one of the lead roles in his play, or more importantly, kiss his boyfriend. "What are you going to sing?"
"Fancy by Iggy Azalea." There was an audible groan, and Frank glanced at Gerard like he was asking for help, and really any excuse just to leave.
"Are you going to be rapping it as well?" Brendon asked: struggling to keep his voice neutral and not burst into laughter at the thought.
"Would I be singing a rap song if I wasn't going to rap?" Muddy looked mildly offended, but really it wasn't her place to be offended as should stood there with a fucking orange face.
"I think whether Iggy Azalea's music can be considered rap or not is questionable, but..." Ryan gave a shrug and flashed Muddy a smile, "good luck, Muddy."
It wasn't just bad.
Muddy's cover of Fancy redefined the word terrible, and Gerard was pretty sure he'd never be able to listen to any kind of music ever again after this.
Ryan was contemplating suicide and began texting Brendon from under the table.
'If you make anyone other than Megan play Hazel I will literally quit.'
Brendon smirked as he glanced at the message and the distress on Ryan's face.
'Megan to play Hazel has been the plan all along. I wrote the character of Hazel for Megan.'
Ryan looked up at Muddy and then at Megan, who was a few spaces behind in the queue.
'Then why the fuck are we having auditions for Hazel?'
Brendon let out a sigh.
'Honestly, I just wanted to hear terrible covers of songs and laugh. It's been quite the morning.'
-
By the time Megan was at the front of the queue, it was nearing twelve and there were hardly any students remaining to audition. Frank also really needed a piss, but he doubted that Brendon would let him leave the chair for even a second, so he was going to have to wait it out, and hope for the best.
"I'm going to be auditioning for Hazel." Megan flashed a grin at Ryan, "and I'm going to be singing Pillowtalk." She gave a nod in Mr Urie's direction, and he quite honestly looked like someone had just told him that he'd won the lottery.
However, Megan didn't really end up singing Pillowtalk for very long; she got about three words in before Brendon stopped her with a massive grin on his face.
"Megan, this is absolutely perfect, I can't believe such an amazingly talented musician and actress is here at Bertfield High School, you have me in tears, you are just..." Brendon stopped for a moment: catching his breath, "you are the Hazel we all need. You are the Hazel Grace Lancaster that even the movie couldn't provide. You are the real Hazel. You are the Hazel inside of us all, and I just... no one else could possibly play this part. Thank you. This performance has literally changed my life."
Ryan nodded up at Megan and smiled, "Same."
"Alright, next," Mr Urie called out: sitting back in his chair: feeling satisfied that they'd gotten all of that Hazel shit out of the way. "Who are you?" He asked as he looked upon a rather skinny awkward looking guy, who he felt like he'd seen before, but couldn't quite place.
"I'm... Michael... Michael Smith." The guy introduced himself, and Brendon looked at Ryan: eyes wide and pure terror hidden within them. "And I'm auditioning for Isaac."
Brendon glanced at a text message he'd received under the table.
'You have to give him the part or I will leave and I will make Ryan leave. Lots of love -Megan xoxo'
Brendon took a moment to question just how the fuck Megan Clifford had his personal phone number, but then, of course, he was dating Ryan Ross, so he really wasn't sure why this was a point of confusion for him.
He then took a moment to question just why Megan would want this random fuckboy to get the part of Isaac, but then, of course, he remembered: Megan was convinced that this skinny, awkward, non-descript looking fuckboy was the lead singer of the Smiths.
Brendon questioned why he had ever associated with Megan in this play as a whole, but he had to admit that she'd made a pretty snazzy poster for it, like literally, graphic design must be her passion or something.
'Okay fine. Just don't text me again.'
"So, Michael, what are you going to be singing?" Brendon asked: bracing himself for whatever kind of hell he'd have to condemn the part of Isaac to.
Michael's face gave way to a smile, as he pulled a guitar out from seemingly nowhere and flashed the 'judges' (Frank was asleep on the desk at this point) a smile. "Now, here's Wonderwall."
-
this is the poster that megan made i thought you'd like to see
tag yourself I'm brenodn in the corner
u got another update so quick because i planned to make a joke in a few chapters time that relies on zayn's album not being out yet so here we go
also this chapter like 8k words long whats going on
vote and comment if u agree
love u guys
tag yourselves as things that happened in this chapter I'm frank's destiel fanfiction