Boring Days In Paradise;; Deagan

[freddie spencer collins]

Freddie gave a smug grin as he was given yet another cold glare from his current teacher. They weren't on good terms, and by the looks of it, never would be. Today he had given her many reasons to add him to the list of people she hated with a passion. First off, he had arrived to the class ten minutes late, and she wouldn't accept his perfectly good excuse of he had something more important to take care of. Then he had - in her words - 'defaced the good Bible's name' by giving a good stream of blashemy and cursing when she started giving a speech about how he never gave books the proper treatment they deserved. His favorite of the day so far was the outraged rant she had given him about the t-shirt he was wearing under his blue, plaid shirt. Apparently, not everyone appreciated the humor in his 'Hitler European Tour: 1939-1945' shirt. The latest glare was given whenever he gave a loud, over dramatic yawn and closed his file. He did actually care and was willing to work, but the reactions that she gave him were just so much more fun.
When she turned back to her whiteboard to continue teaching the class, Freddie leant back in his chair and crossed on leg over the other, getting himself in a comfier position. He glanced up to see what they were studying at present, because it occured to him that he actually didn't know. When he saw that it said 'Shakespeare' in big letters, he realised it was better that he wasn't paying attention. Freddie had never been a fan of the classic writer, and many a time he had vented his feelings on how old William was just being over-rated because he was dead and had a cursed play.
He glanced around the classroom, wondering if there was anything on the walls that may attract his attention, but that was really just wishful thinking. The walls were covered in stupid flyers or essays written by some kids and posters advertising plays that were in the theatre before any of the student body were even born. Freddie reached down to his bag, pulling it up on his lap and rummaging inside for something of interest. There was the usual things he kept there but weren't worth the hassle of using in teacher presence, like weed, cigarettes, his iPhone and stuff like that. Then he finally laid his hands on a magazine that he had put in there and forgetting about a long time ago.
After taking the magazine out and dropping the bag back to the ground, Freddie flicked a few pages in past all the adverts and crap to the actual articles. There was nothing interesting really that he didn't actually know about already, but then he found an interview that took his attention. He read it for a few minutes, but then his attention was brought back to reality when he heard the classroom door slam and noticed the teacher was no longer in the room. He poked the student at the desk beside him and asked, "Where'd the old bat go?" After being informed that she had to go take a phone call, Freddie reached back to his bag and pulled out the cigarette and a lighter. Chances were, she would stretch out the phone call as long as she could, and pretty much everyone in the class stopped working and used the time for being social, so it was the perfect oppurtunity for Freddie to have a smoke. He put a cigarette in his mouth before lighting it up and going back to his magazine. A new pedal for double bass drums had caught his attention, and he was close to drooling at staring at it. He sighed and set the drum magazine on his desk, before taking another couple of draws of his cigarettes. "Oh to have money," Freddie muttered to himself.
Bored oncemore - even without the teacher there - Freddie started to look around him again. He noticed that the guy to the other side of him had a packet of guitar strings sticking out of his bag and decided it could be interesting to converse with the guy. "Hey," he greeting, giving the guy a poke, "You a guitar player?"

[deagan broderick maddock]

-----------------------cause you knew that we had to die sometime
well darling, tonight could be a beautiful night to die-----------------------

deagan loved days like this. it was always nice when some asshole distracted the teacher for a good twenty minutes. today's lesson had been thoroughly broken up by some kid that deagan hadn't really ever noticed. the english teacher was absolutely livid with the boy now though, and all of her attention was centered on the asshole. some other kids in the class, especially girls, rolled their eyes and acted like the class clown was soooo immature. which might have been true, but since when was that a bad thing? as long as the teacher was distracted, deagan was happy. not only did it give his brain time to rest, it also gave him an opportunity to shoot a few texts to people in other classes. and even though the asshole was sitting right next to him, the teacher was far too distracted by him to notice deagan's use of the ever-banned cell phone.

but all good things can't last forever. eventually, the kid quieted down and the teacher got the classroom under control again. she went back to writing on the whiteboard and babbling on about shakespeare. deagan had heard this speech a thousand times since middle school, but each year his english teachers thought it was their duty to introduce the children to great literature. not that deagan couldn't appreciate shakespeare's genius, he was just tired of it by now. it was all old news to him. he grabbed a notebook and pencil out of his backpack, placing them on his desk and pretending to take notes. what he ended up with was a bunch of abstract swirls and lines, with some lyrics mixed in. all that seemed to be on his mind these days was the band. his entire focus had been on hammering out tunes with jamie, and trying to find a drummer. they were in desperate need of a drummer. they had lead, bass, and vocals. they were only missing one component. but unfortunately, no one had come up as of yet. deagan was determined to change that, though. but he wouldn't settle for just anyone. his band's drummer needed to be skilled. he had to be at least as good as deagan and jamie, who had been playing their entire lives.

the teacher's voice droned on and on, barely audible to deagan. he was totally lost in his own little world at the moment, leaning his head on his hand and continuing to doodle. he wasn't worried about paying attention to this lesson. he knew that he could pass a test on the material right now if the teacher chose to hand one out. he'd always been a good student, and once he learned something he didn't forget it. he sat back slightly in his chair, placing the eraser on his pencil in his mouth and observing the drawings he'd made. they looked pretty cool, he supposed. his teeth put pressure on his eraser, biting down on it just slightly. most of deagan's pencils were eraser-less because of this habit.

out of nowhere, deagan felt a gentle poke in his side. he took the eraser out of his mouth and looked at the source of the poke. it was the asshole kid from earlier. deagan met his eyes, then followed his gaze to the guitar strings hanging out of his backpack. he'd bought those this morning on his way to school, knowing his guitar would need a new set if he was going to start practicing more due to the band project. he met the boy's eyes again, speaking in a low tone, "yah. you?" his answer was short, but friendly. deagan was just a man of few words. the fact that the kid even knew what the strings were, said he knew at least something about music. strangers who were into music were the only strangers who deagan enjoyed talking to. in general, he avoided people he didn't know. looking around, deagan noticed that the teacher was nowhere to be found. he hadn't even noticed she'd gone. he hoped she'd stay gone for awhile. especially if the conversation with this dude turned interesting. his eyes focused back on his neighbor, noticing the cigarette in the guy's hand. it the occurred to deagan that this was brilliant. the teacher probably wouldn't even come back. he felt his own body craving a cigarette but resisted the urge to light up. he could wait until the end of class.

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WORDS- 741
LYRICS- wake the dead . the used
PS- =) yay band

[freddie spencer collins]

Freddie twisted round in his seat a little, so as to be able to talk to the guy and still be sitting comfortably. He shook his head and took another draw of his cigarette. "I was always too A.D.D. to be able to learn guitar; Lord knows my cousin tried. Nah, I'm a drummer," he replied, giving a slight nod in the direction of the drum magazine sitting on his desk as well. He then went on talking again, "I gotta say dude, kudos on being able to play one of those things, I could never get my head around chords and all that jazz. So how long have you been playing?" Freddie asked. He then was quiet for a few moments, suddenly realising that he may come across as a weirdo if he was talking a mile a minute. He couldn't help himself from talking sometimes though, like word vomit. It had made his grandparents and other family wonder if he really was A.D.D. No one ever thought to take him to a doctor about it though.
"So, do you take any of the music classes?" Freddie asked, unable to help himself from talking again now he actually had someone to converse with. He then went on, "I used to take a couple, but I always thought it was a waste of time, so gave it up in favor of going to the arcade or music shops. Always the more fun alternative, not that any of the staff here would see that. Oh! I'm Freddie by the way. Freddie Collins." Freddie grinned cheerfully and stuck his hand out for the other guy to shake, and then realised it was the hand with the cigarette in it. He quickly jerked his hand back and put the cigarette in his mouth to let it dangle, before holding his hand back to the other guy.

((two apologies, first for the major delay with this reply, second for how short and woeful this was. school is making me fail at life, but I'll make up for it))