Ryan found himself in Mr Urie's office for something like the seventy seven millionth time, and it got to the point where he sat in that chair and began to suggest his own decor improvements to brighten up the place. Maybe he should even get a drawer of his own shit in Mr Urie's office, seeing as he spent a hell of a lot of time in there, like this was pretty much his second home, so being sent there from his classes was hardly any kind of punishment, and yet, his teachers were still stupid enough to do it.

Ryan would have been surprised but thinking about it, these were the staff that mostly Mr Urie had hired so it definitely made some sense in that regard. He'd actually started going to a good third of his classes now, which was definitely a new thing in his life, and one thing he'd noticed about school was that it was just so fucking boring, like doing work and all that shit was absolutely not the reason why Ryan was here; even before Mr Urie, he'd always been here to get some dick, as of course, he had his priorities sorted out.

He was trying to persuade Mr Urie to transfer him to Frank's english class, as then he would be with Megan, which was the main thing he was using to convince Brendon, along with some bullshit about feeling uncomfortable without Megan, and this lie about how once when they were fourteen they'd done some ancient blood magic ritual and found that they were actually connected spiritually which Brendon had been far too quick to believe.

It wasn't that Ryan and Megan didn't have a single deeper connection than their incredibly strong and beautiful friendship, because of course they did, it was just Ry and Meg - the dynamic duo who existed on a higher level than the rest of humanity, but not on the whole ancient blood magic shit, but once Ryan had looked himself up on Ancestry.com and apparently he and Megan were actually cousins from two different sides of the family that just hated ecah other. Ryan had chosen not to mention this to Megan, or anyone for that matter, because he reckoned it sounded kind of sad if his only real friend was his cousin.

Also he wanted to use the cousin excuse for something else if it came down to it - namely, Michael Smith, who Megan had gotten suspiciously close to due to her belief that he was from the Smiths, and honestly Ryan did not fucking like the guy at all, but as long as Megan was happy then he had to be a good friend and accept that she might actually be attracted to an awkward, greasy haired string bean, like he was in absolutely no position to kinkshame her, but the moment Michael managed to prove that he actually was a dick then Ryan would be so ready to break the grave news that Michael was in fact her cousin. He'd probably also have to explain the concept of incest to Megan, because due to something she'd once said in one of her quality youtube videos on her quality youtube channel xxMeganCliffordxx, he wasn't entirely convinced that she actually knew what incest was.

It wasn't a worry, though, because if the cousin thing didn't work then he'd just tell her that Michael was the Zodiac Killer, which initially did sound rather far fetched, but so did this extremely non-descript, very quiet, string bean resembling, fuckboy being a member of the Smiths, and Megan had believed that without question.

And in Ryan's humble, but very well formed and generally right due to the fact that he was Ryan Ross and he did what he wanted and fucking knew shit, opinion, the fact that Michael had just let Megan believe he was in the Smiths for nearly two weeks now was extremely manipulative and the sign of a problematic person who he absolutely did not want his best, and perhaps only, friend, Megan Ashleigh Clifford, to be dating a manipulative fuckboy. If Ryan actually gave a fuck he might have written a callout post on tumblr, but he didn't care quite that much, and in fact he found that he cared more about the fact that Megan's middle name was Ashleigh, which was definietly something worth kinkshaming her parents for, than he did care for Megan's really shit pathetic excuse for a boyfriend.

Ryan leaned back in the chair and began to wonder just how Megan might react to being told her boyfriend of about ten days was the Zodiac Killer. It wasn't that Ryan was a salty little bitch, except that he was, but this was irrelevant - he didn't want to break up Megan and Michael because he didn't want Megan to be happy, he was just doing it out of kindness and loyalty, and also he was getting real fucking bored of having to listen to Megan whine on about Michael Smith, and found that he'd actually rather write a fanfiction about Megan and Michael Clifford than hear another word about Michael Smith.

Ryan was beginning to wonder if Brendon was actually even in school today, and got up from the chair, and did the only logical thing he could think of, which was of course, look through his desk for weed, because Brendon was absolutely terrible at enforcing any of the school rules, besides, of course, the confiscation of all illegal drugs.

Surprisingly, Mr Urie's desk was actually weed free, and Ryan sat back in the chair, more disappointed than he'd ever been, and ready to text Megan to bitch and moan about his troubling problems, when he caught sight of a sticky note stuck to the edge of Mr Urie's desk; it stood out to Ryan on the basis that it was shaped like a dick, which was something that hadn't even fazed him at this point, but what fazed him, however, was just what was written upon the sticky note.

'Play Idea - Pewdiepie The Musical'

Already Ryan was both insanely confused and very interested and pulled the sticky note away from the desk to find another one beneath it with yet more shit written on it.

'Pewdiepie goes on a quest to sue the Fine Bros for being bros. Megan would make a good Maya.'

However, Ryan didn't have quite long enough to ponder just how high Brendon had to have been to come up with that shit, before the office door burst open, and finally, everyone's favourite shitty excuse for a headteacher, Mr Urie, walked inside.

"Oh hey Ryan," He barely gave a glance in Ryan's direction, before locking the goddamn door, and sitting down in his chair: throwing a folder down onto the desk, and a bag of weed next to it. "Sorry I wasn't here for like twenty minutes I was meeting with my drug dealer." His tone was all too fucking casual as he leaned back in the chair and grabbed his lighter from his pocket.

"Couldn't confiscate any offf students this week, then?" Ryan let a smirk fall over his mouth as he made a grab for Brendon's weed and began to roll himself a joint. "Oh come on, we all know you do it."

"I've been too busy with The Fault In Our Stars The Musical, as you know." Brendon's face gave way to a smile. "This was one of your best ideas, Ryan, you know that? I think I've really found something special with musicals. I've even been planning my next one, but it's a surprise, so don't even ask me about it."

Ryan tried his best to suppress a snort as he found that he absolutely could not wait until Pewdiepie the Musical, where, knowing Brendon, he'd be inevitably cast as Pewdiepie. He'd have to suggest that Micheal Smith and Muddy were cast as the Fine Bros, because no one did hated pieces of shit like they did. Well, maybe comparing Michael to Muddy was a bit harsh, but Megan had once been friends with Muddy too, so Ryan absolutely could not trust Megan's judgement at all. Granted, they were about twelve, but that was besides the point in Ryan's eyes.

"We need to hurry up with The Fault In Our Stars, though, because we need to perform it before there's that art trip to France, because like I know Megan, she's going to go off to La Francia-"

"Brendon, that's Spanish for France-" Ryan tried to correct him, but Brendon was having absolutely none of it.

"I know what the fuck I'm doing, I once studied French in school. I fucking failed that shit, but F for France, so in spirit, I did the best out of the class." Brendon gestured rather wildly with his hands as he spoken, and accidentally threw a folder down onto the folder, yet seemed not to notice. "Anyway, she's going to go off to La Francia, and she's going to focus so much on the French, and food, and what else begins with 'F' that's going to happen in France..." Brendon paused for a moment, "Frerard." Ryan's eyes widened in response. "Oh don't look at me like that, I'm not that old, I know what you kids are talking about. Anyway, Megan sure as fuck isn't going to remember her lines when she comes back from La Francia so we need to get on with it.

"Brendon, you know, you haven't actually shown us the script yet." Ryan made what, even Brendon could agree, was a very good point. "How are we supposed to learn it, let alone, forget it if we've never seen it?"

"Trust me, Ryan, I know what I'm doing." Brendon gave him a nod, "I'm somewhat of a professional. I spent like one hundred dollars buying the costumes for it, and then another one hundred dollars on myself because I saw this really nice jacket online- but that doesn't matter, the school can cope with a two hundred dollar loss, can't it?" Ryan offered a nod like he actually knew anything about budgeting and the amount of money the school had. "We're gonna go through the script tomorrow, actually, so get ready. I had your costumes on next day delivery so we should be good to do a full run through tomorrow-"

"Our lines, though-"

"I'm going to project the whole script up on the board behind the audience, so trust me, it's going to be fine." Brendon offered him a smile, "and it's not actually that long, and Megan has a fuck ton more than you to say, although, I have to warn you, Ryan, that I may have accidentally written in some sexual tension between Augustus and Isaac, only realising later just-"

"Are you shipping me with Michael Smith?" Ryan looked at him in disbelief, "oh my god, can you cast like a really hot guy, like really hot Tom with the long hair as like back up Isaac and then I'll discreetly push Michael down the stairs or something, and I'll have some sexual tension with-"

"Really hot Tom." Brendon repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"He's straight so don't worry about it, but he is quite hot, I'll point him out to you later, but you'll see that I have a point." Ryan assured him with a very enthusiastic nod, "anyway, I'm not kissing Michael Smith, I think Megan will punch me-"

"You and Megan could always swap roles..." Brendon trailed off, "now that would be very... new and fresh, don't you think?"

"I'm not being whiny bitch hoe Hazel Grace Lancaster, thank you very much." Ryan shook his head and folded his arms. "Just write all the me and Michael kisses out, okay?"

"It's not that full on, just implied." Brendon reassured him. "Severely implied." He whispered the last part with his head turned away so Ryan couldn't make it out.

"Oh, that's alright then, don't worry about it-"

"Hey, Ryan," Brendon paused for a moment, "why were you actually sent here?"

"Oh," Ryan let out a laugh before beginning to explain, "I punched my geography teacher in the face."

Brendon's eyes widened severely for a second, before his expression shifted, "do you mean that old one with those horrific knitted sweaters-"

"Yes." Ryan nodded, looking horrified at even the mention of him.

Brendon let out a sigh, "well, in that case, I guess I'm going to have to give you a..." He reached towards the detention letters on his desk, but suddenly stopped and high fived Ryan suddenly. "High five." Ryan rolled his eyes in disbelief. "He's such a fucking bitch - well done you've done the world a favour."

-

Megan was very disappointed, but in all honesty, not all that surprised, to find that Michael Smith's house was exceedingly dull, and generally looked as if it hadn't been lived in at all, and of course, there was a definite absence of guinea pigs, and the whole wall dedicated to Michael Clifford's face like there was in Megan's room, but she left him off on the basis that she still believed he was in the Smiths.

Michael wasn't at all sure how he'd acquired a girlfriend, and how it was this girl he'd never even spoken to until about ten days ago, but he found that he really wasn't in the position to question it. All in all, he'd had an excellent two weeks - he'd gotten a girlfriend, he'd landed a major part in the school play, he'd gained at least three friends, although two of them were Megan's guinea pigs, he'd held a guinea pig for the first time, and had finally learned all the names of the members of One Direction, which Megan had assured him was a very vital achievement.

Anyway, Megan and Michael were lying on Michael's bed engaging in some quality Netflix and Chill time, except Michael didn't seem to understand just what Netflix and Chill actually was, because this was so much more Netflix than it was chill, and if he didn't get the hint eventually then Megan was going to Netflix and Kill him, which would totally be a shame because then Ryan would miss out on accusing Michael of being the Zodiac Killer, which truthfully, was something he'd been rather looking forward to.

"Michael," Megan began: lying on her back and staring up at Michael's exceedingly dull ceiling and considering texting Ryan to prank call Michael about dildos or something because, well, Ryan had become quite the influence on Megan through their friendship.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking away from whatever shit he'd put on Netflix to meet Megan's gaze.

"Are we actually going to do anything?" Megan asked: making a point of overemphasising her bored tone of voice, and not giving as many fucks as she should have in response to the uncomfortable expression on Michael's face.

"Like what?" Michael asked: offering her a hopeful smile in response.

"Michael, put on some 5SOS and kiss me." Megan paused for a moment, smiling as she remembered a particularly steamy muke oneshot she'd read last night, because Megan had found that she'd gotten more into muke that she had previously anticipated, but she found herself learning to love Luke Hemmings and was now very excited for the threesome she'd have with them in the future. "Perhaps Kiss Me Kiss Me, you know? Fits in with the vibe, or we could have a really long kiss and listen to their entire discography-"

It was at that point that Michael kissed Megan, you know, mainly just to shut her up, because he really could not hear another fucking word about 5 Seconds Of Summer, but he wasn't about to admit that to anyone - especially not Megan, as he didn't particularly fancy getting punched in the face, and then he was pretty sure that Ryan Ross was looking for any and every opportunity in which to ruin his life. He wasn't sure exactly what Ryan had against him, but then again, he'd gathered that Ryan Ross kind of just did shit for the sake of it.

"Wow, Michael that was a really nice kiss." Megan said pulling away, taking the first opportunity she had to start talking as soon as was possible. "That was really nice of you." She let her face fall into a smile, "but I don't think I want to fuck you, I think, I'm going to have to accept the truth that I've known for a long time. I'm saving myself for m-"

"Megan, it's the 21st century, you are a strong, independent, privileged, white, straight cis girl-" Michael began; Megan had exposed him to tumblr last week and he was making fast progress.

"Excuse me, I'm Michaelsexual, but-"

"Anyway, you're a strong, independent, priveledged, white, michaelsexual, cis girl, and you most certainly do not have to save yourself for marriage. Virginity is a social construct and it means nothing and I-"

"Michael." She placed her hand on his shoulder and let out a sigh, "that's not what I said." She shook her head in disbelief, "come on, Michael, do you even know me at all? I'm way more of a hoe than that. I'm saving myself for Michael."

"I am Michael." Michael protested.

"But you're the wrong Michael. I mean, you may be Michael Smith, but you're not Michael Clifford. I mean, if we get married you'd be Michael Clifford, and we're going to have a kid called Luke Clifford because I'm muke as fuck, but, Michael Clifford, from 5 Seconds Of Summer, needs to follow me on twitter before I can commence with the rest of my life, so I'm sorry Michael Smith but we can't have sex until Michael Clifford follows me on twitter." Megan finished, looking up at Michael apologetically.

In all honesty, Michael Smith didn't quite know what to say; he'd never even met anyone like Megan and now he was dating her and he lowkey had a lot of regrets, but absolutely none at all, because he genuinely cared for Megan, and as she would say, she was his senpai, or something like that.

"You know what?" Michael began: feeling suddenly empowered. "I will get Michael to follow you on twitter. I'm not sure how, but I will not stop until you get your wish, because I care about you, Megan, and you deserve it."

"Oh my god, Michael, you're so sweet, we're like my fifth best OTP after me and Michael Clifford, Frank and Mr Way, Ryan and Brendon, and Jack and Ahmed." Michael looked a little unconvinced by the nature of the compliment she'd just offered him. "That's a really good thing, I promise, I have a lot of OTPs, we're in the top five-"

"But Megan, aren't Jack and Ahmed your guinea pigs?" Megan nodded in response. "You ship your guinea pigs more than you ship yourself with your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

-

Gerard was curled up on the sofa with his laptop, finally finding that he had some free time when Frank wasn't in his immediately, as his super platonic housemate had gone out to fetch some milk since they'd run out and this house practically ran on coffee, and Gerard was very defiant about the fact that he'd gone last time, and Frank had extreme difficulty when it came to saying no to Gerard Way.... platonically, of course.

Gerard had been waiting for this time to come for a good week or so now, like seriously, he and Frank spent a hell of a lot of time together, and it was only as he found himself looking for opportunities to discreetly read the Destiel fanfiction Frank had written age eighteen did he find himself realising that, which certainly wasn't the most expected of circumstances, to say the least.

He now had it bookmarked on his laptop and read it at every opportunity, because although it was Destiel, and Frank had written it when he was eighteen, and was quite cringey in certain aspects, it was generally well written, and Gerard found himself having an enjoyable time reading it. There was also the fact that well, this fic involved just more than a little bit of explicit content, and Gerard had really never wanted to reach a point in his life where he was looking forward to reading about Dean Winchester and Castiel fucking, but well, Frank Iero had clearly done some strange things to him.

Gerard had his headphones in, jamming to some One Direction, because you had to admit that Made in the A.M. was some good fucking shit, regardless of whether you loved them or not, and okay, maybe Gerard did have some certain One Direction related guilty pleasures that may or may not involve Harry Styles, also known as a literal angel, and the actual saviour of everyone's life.

Anyway, Gerard was having quite the time: reading his platonic best friend housemate's explicit Destiel fanfiction and jamming to Never Enough by One Direction, however he found himself getting just a little too into jamming, as with a sudden hand on his back, he found himself having an experience not far from a heart attack, as he pulled his headphones out and jumped in the sofa, leaving the laptop to fall from his lap, and at least, for the laptop's sake, slide off onto the coffee table.

Gerard looked up wide eyed to find Frank standing at his side: the remnants of laughter fading from his face as his eyes focused upon the laptop screen and realised just what Gerard had been so engrossed in.

"Gerard are you fucking-" Frank didn't quite know how to react, because although he wanted to be pissed off and angry and embarrassed and shocked all at once, the only thing he could manage in Gerard's presence was an awkward kind of disbelieving half smile. "I told you not to read it- how did you find it?"

"You told me what it was called, you idiot." Gerard's tone was affectionate, and he leaned into Frank's side as the shorter man sat down beside him: gaze still fixated upon the laptop screen. "I just googled it."

"Fuck," Frank let out a sigh: leaning back against the sofa and cursing his entire existence, because maybe he should have been even just slightly angry, but he really wasn't, and he just really didn't know what to do.

"It's good, you know?" Gerard continued after a moment. "Honestly, I'm enjoying it. I mean, some bits are a bit awkward, but I think that has more to do with the fact that it's fucking Supernatural fanfiction than your actual writing, and, I, for one, am especially enjoying the explicit parts-"

"Oh my god-" Frank immediately proceeded to bury his head in his hands and regret his entire existence, as you do.

"From the sounds of this, you were a very sexually experienced eighteen year old-"

"Shut the fuck up." Frank brushed his hair away from his face, "oh my god, please stop, it's so fucking bad, I-"

"No, seriously, you should write something now, you're talented, you know? Maybe become a published author and not just sit around doing nothing in this shitty school for the rest of your life?" Gerard suggested: pulling Frank's hands away from his face so he was forced to look at him.

"Maybe I like doing nothing." Frank let out a sigh. "Maybe I like it there."

"Why the fuck would you like it there?" Gerard looked at him like he'd just told him he wanted to insert four hundred carrots into his rectum.

Frank gave a shrug: feeling his cheeks heating up, because he knew why instantly, and the reason was the man sitting right beside him on their sofa: the man who he now lived with, in a totally platonic housemate way, of course.

"You, I guess." Frank finally brought himself to admit.

Gerard just looked at him for a minute: all wide eyes and a certain something hidden behind them, like he was so close to just losing all rational and acting on impulse and impulse alone - like he was so close to just kissing him.

But he snapped out of it and instead flashed a smile and changed the subject. "Did you get the milk?"

-

Finally, it was time. The moment literally everyone had been waiting for. No, not Frerard getting together, as Megan and some others may have assumed from the aforementioned, but it was the day that the wonderfully written piece of classic literature known as the script for The Fault In Our Stars the musical was about to be unveiled.

It was a dress rehearsal for The Fault In Our Stars and everyone was insanely hyped because they got to miss two hours of classes for it, which was really the main reason why people had signed up for this play: this was something that Brendon was yet to discover, and Ryan was exactly first in line to tell him.

Honestly, Ryan had better things to think about, such as how to frame Michael Smith as the Zodiac Killer and just what the fuck kind of shit Brendon could have possibly written into the script.

"Right, okay, guys, just act it out and read from your scripts, and I will sit here and direct and look very important." Brendon announced: walking into the room and sitting back in a chair, before gesturing people onto the 'stage', which was a series of tables pushed together, which honestly looked the least safe thing Ryan had ever seen in his life, but there was that one time where he literally jumped out of his maths classroom window, so he got up into it with little fuss.

Megan was a little more hesitant but she did so with Michael's assistance which had Ryan gagging as he moved to the back of the stage.

"Right, okay, dim the lights guys-" Brendon began: gesturing at the kid he'd stationed near the light switch with the bribe of a packet of chocolate buttons that he'd found in the corner of the staff room about forty five minutes earlier.

"How are we supposed to read our scripts that we've literally never seen before with the lights off?" Megan raised a very good point as she accidentally elbowed Michael Smith in the chest whilst gesturing with her hands, and he fell off the edge of the stage without anyone besides Ryan noticing, and Ryan only fell into a fit of laughter as Michael Smith falling off a stage was one of the best things he had ever witnessed.

"Okay, you make a good point, we'll have the lights on. By the way, I'm the narrator, so like-, okay we're starting now." He leaned back in his chair: apparently finding no need to actually get up on stage and just reading his lines from where he was sat, because fuck you, he was the headteacher, director, and Ryan Ross' boyfriend, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

"Once upon a time, in a land far away-"

"Is that really how this play starts?" Michael added from the crowd, "that's not very original, you know?"

"Michael, I've seen your exact haircut on twelve different people today and this is the first time I've left my office so shut up about originality." Mr Urie continued to make it clear that he had absolutely no chill.

"But Mr Urie..." Megan began, defending her boyfriend's honour for literally fuck knows what reason besides the fact that she thought he was in the Smiths; it was likely that it was the only reason. "He's Michael Smith. It's his hair."

Brendon only rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry but literally so many people have the exact same haircut as him."

"Such as?" Megan exclaimed: looking far more offended than Michael ever had been, as he stood awkwardly in the corner and came to accept that no one really liked him.

"Uhh..." Brendon paused for a moment: coming to realise that he didn't actually know the name of any of the pupils in his school. "Uhh..." He continued, and made the mistake of looking to Ryan for help.

"I know." Ryan stepped into the middle of the stage: turning momentarily to wave at Brendon, before smiling at Megan as he faced her, because this was his time to shine - this was the real moment everyone had been waiting for. "I know someone who has the same hair as Michael, and even looks unnervingly like him."

"Who?" Megan regarded Ryan with confusion: finding herself unsure as just who to side with in that moment.

Ryan took a deep breath before continuing, and speaking entirely more dramatically than was necessary. "The Zodiac Killer."

"What?" Michael suddenly began to speak up for himself, because honestly it was okay that Ryan didn't like him, but if he was going to accuse him of being a serial killer, then that was where Michael had to draw the line.

"You." Ryan repeated: pointing dramatically at Michael as he stepped forward to face Ryan. "Look like the Zodiac Killer." Ryan turned to Brendon, who looked rather amused by the situation and nodded at him briefly, "don't you think?"

"Admittedly," Brendon began with a sigh, "I don't really know what the fuck the Zodiac Killer looks like."

"That's the point! And that's why this is bullshit because he was never caught so no one knows who he is so no one knows what he looks like-" Michael attempted to plead his case, as it seemed at this point that Megan had given up when it came to arguing for him.

"Language, Michael." Mr Urie shook his head in disbelief, "we don't say bad words and shit at school." Ryan snorted, because was this guy even trying?

"Actually." Ryan began: smirking like a motherfucker, because he was prepared for this shit, like seriously he'd even had text to speech read the entire Zodiac Killer wikipedia page to him last night when he was stoned, you know, as you do. "There was a sketch based on an eye witness account." Ryan's reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of the sketch that he'd printed earlier, and walked over to Michael and held it up next to him. "Quite the resemblance, don't you think?"

"He's got a point." Brendon had to admit, because in all honestly, Michael did actually kind of look like the Zodiac Killer, like actually, a lot.

"He actually does." Added another kid from the crowd as Megan remained speechless.

"But the Zodiac Killer killed people before I was even born - how could I possibly have committed those murders? I'm not the Zodiac Killer." Michael was starting to get really pissed off. "That's just a vague sketch, anything can look like that-"

"Well." Ryan shook his head once again, "since I am now an art student after parents evening when I got an art grade and Mr Way has just accepted me as a part of his class, I have produced a sketch of you, Michael Smith, in the style of the Zodiac Killer sketch, and these look really similar." He pulled another piece of paper out of his pocket and held up the Michael Smith sketch next to the Zodiac Killer sketch.

"Oh my fucking god!" Mr Urie explained, "has anyone got their phone, we need to call 911-"

"I'm not the fucking Zodiac Killer!" Michael lost all chill and yelled at him, before storming out of the hall and slamming the door behind him.

Ryan snorted as he did so: rolling his eyes. "Sounds like exactly what someone who was the Zodiac Killer would say."

Megan shook her head in disbelief, "come on, Ryan, this isn't true, the Zodiac Killer wasn't in the Smiths. I know exactly who Michael Smith is and who he isn't."

"Sure you do, Megan, sure you do."

-

hey pals hope u enjoyed if u did vote and comment

and also this is ryan's sketch of michael smith (courtesy of isolationbel)

as u can tell, there is quite the resemblance