Oh hey, happy Christmas, here's a gift from me in the form of re-uploading this story and its sequel, which are now both completed! If any of you still remember this from when it was first up on here, thanks for coming back! I finally got some inspo to finish it and I hope you enjoy it! 

DISCLAIMER: In this fan fiction i do NOT mean to insult anything to do with the church, christianity, religion in general or any other sort of offence really. This is just a fictional story. I know not everything is factually accurate so if you're religious and I got stuff wrong sorry! 

One

Some people just didn't see the beauty in graffiti.

Luckily, i was not one of those closed-minded people, who thought that the only sort of art was the type you saw framed in a gallery. Whereas they would go on about Leonardo DaVinci, my favourite artist would always be Banksy. Whereas they would sit back in a fancy conservatory and paint on their high-end easels, i would do quick doodles on the sides of buildings with my spray can. And guess who got more fun out of it?

Maybe it was because i loved the adrenalin. The fear that would pump through me as i was chased through alleyways and down streets, my bag of spray cans banging and clanging against my hip as i sprinted away from trouble.

Of course, trouble had a habit of following me around. Or rather, i had a habit of chasing after trouble. Call if neglect from my parents, a need to be rebellious to replace my low self esteem or whatever else a councillor would say, but i loved nothing more that to dive into trouble. Not even for the attention, but just as a 'fuck you' to the big society.

My record was... colourful to put it lightly. Frank Anthony Iero, a delinquent seventeen year old who had been expelled from two schools and suspended once from his third. My record contained an array of offences, from setting fire to a caretakers shed, to throwing paint out of a first floor window and then laughing as it hit my old headmistress, covering her in the gloopy mess. And those were just some of the accounts where i was caught.

It was a thursday afternoon, and from what i can remember it was mildly cloudy, maybe a little sun here and there as i crouched down in the pedestrian underpass that lead under one of the big highways leading into Belleville. Nothing seemed unusual about that day to me at the time, but then i wasn't exactly paying much attention to anything except the paint spraying out of my can as i worked away at my piece of art.

"What are you going to call this one?" my friend Pete asked as he lit his cigarette, lips curling around the stick with such ease that you could easily tell he'd been addicted to the killing-device for at least a year. It tempted me, seeing him take a long drag, but i was otherwise preoccupied with my 'street' art.

"I'm thinking either 'The Kid From Yesterday' or 'The Kids From Yesterday' - can't decided weather to go singular or plural" i gave way to a small frown as i thought it over. In fact, i drew back, sinking onto my knees as i took in my latest piece - a hooded boy in scuffed trainers and jeans that were tearing at the seams as he turned his back on a pile of old toys, and instead lit a cigarette. I wasn't sure who it was suppose to be, the idea just came to me the night before and ever since i had had an urge to paint it in large scale. My fingers had practically itched all day to be able to get spraying onto the clean white wall.

"I really don't know why you give so much thought to it" Pete chuckled between drags "it's only a matter of time before they paint over it and it's lost."

Pete had never really understood why i didn't just settle for canvases. I couldn't quite explain why, but the adrenalin and the fact that we could be busted at any moment, accompanied with the cold Jersey wind in my face, made my art the best. It just wasn't the same when i was at home with a sketchbook in front of me.

All the same, he let me drag him all over town to be my watchman whilst i worked, and i was always grateful to him for that. Whatever trouble we got into, he didn't seem to give a shit, much like myself. We'd fast bonded when we first started high school seeing as we'd been in detention together most days, and that friendship had only grown over the years. We had a mutual agreement to always have each other's backs, no matter what.

Pete was use to my last-minute inspiration, to the phone calls at god nows what time asking him to go out tagging with me. He always came along, standing at one end of the underpass or wall, depending on my chosen location, and if anyone came near he would holler to run. It worked well, and we were hardly ever caught.

Of course, it worked better when he didn't bring his fuck buddies along too.

"It's so detailed" Patrick Stump turned from where he was looking out at the other end of the underpass, toying with the ends of his sleeves out of nerves. Why Pete thought it would be a good idea, or even okay with me, to bring his new boyfriend along i didn't know. Not only did it mean i was third wheeling on them both, but it also meant i had to keep an eye on Patrick to make sure he didn't fuck up too badly.

So far he had been okay, just nervous, which i guess was understandable for a kid like him. He was in the year below us, and was completely out of his depth. I could clearly see that he only agreed to come along because Pete had asked him too. And if Pete could do anything, it was sweet talk people until they were wrapped around his finger.

Pete had always been a bit of a player, but i had a feeling this one was different. He wasn't just sleeping with the guy - he was bringing him along to everything he did and even holding hands as they walked down the street, leaving me to walk awkwardly on the path behind them.

It was only because of Pete that i was putting up with the new addition to our group. I knew it would just slow us down if push came to shove, so i was hoping for once that i didn't get caught - normally i wouldn't particularly care, but for Patrick's sake i doubled my speed as i sprayed.

"Thanks" i smiled at him, packing away the cans into my shoulder bag "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell many people that this was me. My parent's are right up in my face at the moment and i don't need it getting back to them."

"Of course" He nodded quickly, glancing at Pete briefly. To say my parents were on my case was an understatement - ever since the incident in which i'd been caught shoplifting cigarettes the previous month they'd made it their mission to try and contain me. Right at that moment they thought i was up in my room studying, after telling them not to dare disturb me.

"Don't worry Iero, i told you, he's cool" Pete rolled his eyes at my overly-cautious behaviour, although i knew if the roles were reversed he'd be the same. "Patty here won't tell a soul." He winked over at his boyfriend, who looked like he was trying his utmost hardest not to blush under Pete's confident gaze.

"Can you both stop making googly eyes and go back to looking out for people? You know, the whole reason you're here and everything?" I snapped a little harder than necessary, but neither of them seemed to mind. Patrick quickly snapped his head back in the direction of the path of the other side, whereas Pete ambled over to his side, looking bored with the whole ordeal. It was obvious that he wanted to go back home with Patrick and pick up wherever they'd left off when i called him up and begged him to come tagging.

"Shit" he cussed, making both me and Patrick spin around to face him "Shit shit shit."

"What? Pete?" I ran over to his end of the bridge and looked out, spotting the cop cars on the side of the road. They were just sitting there, on the lookout for speeding cars no doubt, but i knew that it meant they'd be able to anyone coming in and out from under the bridge.

"They'll be there for at least an hour, maybe all of the afternoon" I hissed "Fuck, Wentz, all you had to do was keep a lookout! What if they come down here, what then? The can's are in my bag for crying out loud!"

"Maybe you could dump the cans...?" Patrick suggested nervously from where he had joined us.

"No" Pete shook his head "They'd scan the barcode, trace it back to the shop, check the CCTV and find out who bought it. Plus Frank here has a record for this stuff. The minute they see him walk out from under here they'll know we've been tagging."

"And they'd recognise you even with your hood up?" He bit his lip nervously as he realised just how much shit we were going to be in. It wasn't much for me when you compared it to my other crimes, but i was guessing this would be Patrick's first offence. The poor kid seemed to have paled as he realised he might well get rounded up by the cops.

"Hell yes, officer McManor would recognise me by my height alone" I grimaced before remembering how worked up Patrick was getting "but don't worry, this is your first offence - they'll probably let you off with a warning." He still didn't looked convinced, and i didn't exactly blame him. He wasn't cut out for that sort of thing and Pete should never have brought him along.

"What are we going to do?" Pete looked liked he wanted to punch something "they're bound to come down here just to check if nothing else. We've tagged here before, goddamn it!"

"We have to run" I spoke calmly, pushing any thoughts of what my parents would do out of my head "it's the only real chance we have. If me and Pete make a run in one direction then Patrick could wait here a minute and run the opposite way - they won't notice him when they're chasing us."

"You can't leave me!" Patrick gulped "what if that doesn't work?"

"The only other option is that you run with us Patty" Pete placed his hands on Patrick's shoulders "what's it going to be?" I had to try my absolute hardest not to drop some sarcastic comment about how he shouldn't even have been there in the first place, or how he should just accept our offer as it was as good as he was going to get.

"I want to come with you. I can't run on my own, you know i'd only get into trouble" he rushed "Holy smokes, what if they catch us?"

"Holy smokes?" I really couldn't help my eyebrow from raising at that "If there was ever a moment to swear properly than this is probably it, you know."

"Leave it Iero" Pete immediately jumped in before Patrick could become too embarrassed. He obviously wasn't that great at swearing either. Why Pete would let himself be so blinded by his little crush not to see how bad an idea bringing Patrick along i didn't know, normally he was really cautious about that sort of thing. "I think we have bigger things to think about, don't you agree?"

"Yeah" I glanced back at my art, still not regretting my choice to come down and create it on a large scale. "Right, we're just going to have to go for it. Okay? Ready?" They both nodded "Right, let's go then."

I didn't wait for them to comment, instead i ran out of the underpass as fast as i could manage. I could hear them keeping up behind me as i flew down the pathway, but unfortunately they were accompanied by the shouts of the cops, who could clearly see us from the top of the bridge. I could only hope that we would have a good enough head start. I was no stranger to being chased like that, and i knew the officers wouldn't give up easily.

Luckily i'd grown up in that city, so i knew all the nooks, crannies and possible escape routes that i could take once i got out of that particular path.

"Stop right there!" One officer yelled, despite the fact that it was obvious we weren't going to. We'd have to have been either incredibly naive or incredibly stupid if we slowed down or even trusted for a moment that they wouldn't arrest us on the spot.

I thought ahead, thinking about the side lane that lead off not too far ahead - if we could get down there then i reckoned we could cut through various people's gardens and then eventually lose the cops. It should have worked perfectly.

Unfortunately, i had been relying on Patrick's feet co-ordination to work perfectly. This was not the case. He stumbled behind me, and although i went into denial about it for a split second, i couldn't deny the fact that even as he managed to catch himself, he was still lagging behind. His breaths were coming thick and fast, and i knew he wasn't cut out for much more.

Now don't get me wrong, i could be a heartless bitch when i wanted to be. But there was something about Patrick Stump that made me feel sorry for him - i couldn't bring myself to cut him lose, even if he still had Pete.

I knew it was stupid even as i was doing it, but i slowed down myself and grabbed him by the arm, pointing ahead of the path.

"Take the sharp left down that little path and keep running whatever you do. Stay with Pete, he'll know where the best short cuts are" Patrick looked like he wanted to complain or ask what i was thinking, but he simply didn't have the breath to do so.

"Iero what are you planning?" Pete yelled over at me from Patrick's other side. But by that point the turning was about to be on us, so i just pushed Patrick forward and pretended to stumble a little. The cops were practically on us, but that didn't mean i wasn't going to go down without a smile.

"Hey McManor, how are you doing?" I asked with a smirk, turning to face the two red faced officers who both dived for me, one grabbing my arms and pinning them behind my back, forcing me onto my knees as McManor just glared down at me.

"Iero, how did i guess?" he drawled sarcastically as i felt my wrists become roughly handcuffed. His colleague wasn't even trying to be gentle, despite how young i was.

"Got me on my knees already huh McManor? I know you missed me but seriously." That earned a rough pulling to my feet my the other officer. Luckily Pete and Patrick had already run ahead and had by that point escaped, so at least my generous deed hadn't gone to waste. I'd probably regret it later on, but i was pleased for then that i'd actually been a decent friend.

"Just shut up Iero, don't make things even worse for yourself" he sighed, flipping out his notebook "Graffiti again, huh? Yet another one to add to your record. Derrick, get him back to the car. I'll call his parents and get them to meet us at the station."

"And now you want to meet my parents, god you're so damn forward" I chuckled dryly, making him wish that he was allowed to hit me. Instead he just pressed his pen to the paper with more pressure as he scribbled away.

"I think we both know i've met your parents more than enough times Iero. I doubt they'll be so forgiving this time too. From what i remember of last time they were getting pretty serious with their threats. About damn time too." He snapped the notebook shut as i was lead back to the squad car, for once going silent as i thought about just how mad my parents were going to be this time. He was right, the threats were getting big now, and i was hoping against hope that it was all talk.

"Oh just piss off McManor, stop pretending you know shit about me" I snapped as he opened the door and Derrick pushed me into the backseat, something i was again no stranger too. In fact i was getting better at adjusting my position so that the handcuffs didn't hurt so much. Normally taggers would just get a slap on the wrists, but as i had been caught doing it so many times before it was more serious for me.

"Do you think the kid's parents will make him take a cell for the night?" Derrick, who i had quickly taken a dislike to, asked McManor as if wasn't even there, sitting right behind him and listening to every word.

"Dunno, they've done it in the past. I have a feeling they'll want to punish him more severely this time" McManor shrugged. Me and the officer had a strange relationship. He despaired of me and i always got a kick out of winding him up. At first he'd tried hard with me, trying to convince me to stay out of trouble. Luckily he quickly caught on that it wasn't going to happen, and left me to it.

I decided that not speaking was probably my best option, so curled up in the back seat, bringing my knees up to my chest and resting my chin on them, glaring at the glove compartment like there was no tomorrow.

I hardly even listened to their meaningless conversation about traffic, calling my parents and what they were doing after they got off work that day. Instead i pressed my forehead against the cool glass and stared out the window, wondering where Pete and Patrick got to before they decided it was safe to slow down. Pete owed me, that much i knew. He'd messed the whole thing up by bringing along his boyfriend, who had turned out not to be able to run that well either just to top things off, landing me in the huge pile of shit that i now faced.

"Come on Iero" McManor sighed as we drew up outside the station "let's get this over with." Even he was bored with having to bring me down to the damn place so often. I knew his mind was probably on other things than myself - he was probably thinking about what he'd have for dinner that night or his weekend plans.

"Are they here already?" I asked, earning a stiff nod in reply. My parents must have just beaten us to it, because just as he nodded i spotted my dad's car pulled up in the corner of the parking lot. I was not looking forward to having to ride home in that. I'd rather take the police car than face the wrath of my parents.

"Are you getting out or am i dragging you?" He sighed down at me at me as his partner strode towards the building, obviously thinking me not worth his time and so leaving me for McManor to deal with.

"I'm coming" I grumbled "just thought i should say goodbye to freedom first."

McManor rolled his eyes and watched me climb out of the backseat. He even leaned over and took off my handcuffs, figuring that now my parents were there, there would be no point in running away for me anymore. They all knew i was guilty, so i didn't really have an option but to follow him into the station, all the while trying to guess my punishment.

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First chapter over!

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