Atticus whistled happily as he walked towards Jacksonville High School in the brisk September morning. The air was frigid and the grass was frozen over; the sun’s weak rays did little to melt the morning dew off of the blades.

“What’re you so happy ‘bout?” Mel mumbled, rubbing his eye. Atticus only looked over to him, winking.

“That whole thing I told ya’ll ‘bout from yesterday. ‘Bout Corrs, ‘member?” he replied joyfully, taking an old black music tape out of his pocket. Melbourne only shook his head, running a hand through his white-blond hair.

“You’re nuts if you think he’ll be interested in that at all.” Atticus only stuck out his tongue at Melbourne as he jabbed at the teen’s side. Mel gave a yelp as he jumped. He turned to Atticus, glaring before moving to jab him back. Atticus only laughed as he grabbed Mel’s wrist, twisting it away from him. He didn’t expect the yelp of pain as the teenager’s expression turned into a shocked one.

Atticus’s good mood immediately darkened as he twisted the wrist back to a normal position as he yanked Melbourne close to him. The blond adverted his eyes away from Atticus, trying to pull his arm back.

“Why does it hurt?” Atticus hissed, though he already knew the answer. Mel just shoved at Atticus with his shoulder.

“’Ca-Cause you’re too rough. Lemme go,” he pleaded. The brunette shook his head as he tightened his grip and made a beeline for the boys’ bathroom. It was time to reveal that he knew all about Melbourne, and how sick he was of the teenager’s bad habit.

“Atticus, stop it!” Mel’s voice sounded nervous as Atticus slammed open the bathroom door. Another teenager quickly looked up from a urinal. He frowned when he saw Atticus and Melbourne as he zipped his jeans and strutted over.

“What’re ya’ll doin’ in here?” he made a menacing face as he walked right up to Atticus. The Southerner didn’t look impressed as he grabbed the front of the teenager’s black Taipan t-shirt with his unoccupied hand.

“Gonna be kickin’ yer ass if ya’ll’re thinkin’ of startin’ shit with me,” Atticus replied lowly as he pulled the teenager’s face close to his. “I suggest that ya’ll git on goin’ ‘fore I’ma gonna slam that ugly head o’ yers into one of those mirrors.” He released the shirt and the Taipan glared at him. But the teen shoved his hands into his pockets as he sulked out of the bathrooms, muttering something about getting those damn queers.

Now alone, Atticus turned to Melbourne. The teenager was still trying to get his wrist out of Atticus’s grip but was staring at the floor. Atticus released him, but just as Mel tried to walk out, the teen blocked his way and jabbed a finger at the wrist.

“Show it to me,” he said. Mel bit his lip as he shook his head, taking a step back. His hips pressed into the porcelain sink as Atticus stepped up right in front of him. Intimidation sometimes worked when it came to his stubborn friend. Atticus didn’t say anything and after a few moments, Mel gave a submissive sigh as he slipped his jacket off of his shoulders and pulled his right arm from the sleeve. He silently held it out for Atticus, refusing to look at the teen as he stared off to the side angrily.

Atticus took the arm, looking at the cuts in the skin. There were numerous marks, and thankfully most of them were shallow. He trailed his fingers over them, noting that a few band-aids were amongst the scratches. The teenager frowned heavily as he glared openly at Melbourne.

“Mel, I love ya’ll like a freakin’ bro. Yer as close t’me as I consider Sadie an’ mah mother. Seein’ ya’ll doin’ this shit… It’s hurtin’ me.”

Melbourne shook his head, his lips tight. “It’s not hurtin’ you, Atticus. It’s not your body.”

“Even if it ain’t, it still hurts!” Atticus growled. “Yer hurtin’ yerself, that ain’t right! All ‘cause o’ yer dad beatin’ on ya’ll-“

“It’s not because of that!” Melbourne sharply replied, turning his head to glare at Atticus. “Don’t blame my dad, Atticus! It’s not that at all.”

“Then what th’hell’s it ‘bout!?” Atticus shouted back, gripping at Mel’s wrist. “’Cause ya’ll got hurt or sumthin’ happenin’ here at school? Tell me!”

“Why th’hell should I tell you?” Mel tried to get his arm back as he pushed against Atticus’s chest with the other. “You just like to jump to your damn conclusions an’ blame my dad or other shit!”

“Th’hell you mean blamin’ yer dad or other shit!? How else do you explain these freakin’ marks on your freakin’ arm!?”

“It’s ‘cause of myself, you jackass!” Mel cried out, shoving against Atticus’s chest viciously. “It’s ‘cause of all the dumb shit that I do, so I punish myself t’make it even! Let me go!” Atticus released Mel’s arm, but remained in front of him as he suddenly enveloped the teen in a hug. Melbourne tensed as he pushed against Atticus, shaking his head. “St-Stop it, let me go, moron!”

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Atticus murmured, closing his eyes tightly. “Punishin’ yerself to ‘make it even’? What th’hell’s ‘it’? Ya’ll ain’t makin’ no sense…”

Mel stopped trying to shove Atticus away as he sighed, “told you you wouldn’t get it…”

Atticus laughed humorlessly, “ya’ll didn’t say anythin’ like that. But seriously, what th’hell’s yer reason? It don’t make sense…” He tightened his hug around his friend.

“…It’s ‘cause,” Mel paused as he gave another sigh and leaned his head forward to rest on Atticus’s shoulder. “’Cause when I do somethin’ stupid, like make a fool of myself, I need to correct myself. So I… y’know.” He raised his arm slightly before letting it drop back to his side. “It’s how I make it even.”

Atticus’s lips set firmly together as he listened to Melbourne. His friend obviously was crazy if he thought that Atticus would believe that bull shit. It had to be something else. Had to be. Atticus immediately thought about Mel’s father, and guessed that his friend had to be cutting because of the abuse.

‘It gotta be. No other logical explanation,’ he thought, slowly releasing Mel. The blond wasn’t looking at him, instead staring off to the side. Atticus sighed slightly as he placed a hand on Mel’s shoulder.

“Look it. I jes want ya’ll t’know that I’ve known ‘bout this. Fer ‘bout a good year or two now.” He watched as Mel’s eyes widened slightly, but continued speaking. “An’ I’ve kept silent. But I can’t no more. From now on, if I know ya’ll’re cuttin’ yerself, then I’m-“

“You’ll what?” Mel growled through clenched teeth, glaring at Atticus. “You’ll do nothin’, that’s what you’ll do. I won’t be able to stand you if you’re just tryin’ to butt into my personal problems and tryin’ to fix them.”

Atticus stared back at him, recalling his conversation with Sadie the day before. What had she said? Something about not everyone needing his help… Or something along those lines. Regardless, Atticus gave a sigh. Mel was right, and so was Sadie. He wasn’t too happy to admit it, but he’d much rather take this small shot against his pride of always being right instead of loosing Mel’s trust as a friend. Atticus offered his friend a small smile as he hugged him again.

“Alright, alright. Ya’ll win. But if yer in serious trouble anytime, don’t think twice ‘bout comin’ on over to my house.”

Mel’s voice was soft as he replied, “don’t think twice?”

“Yeah, don’t go thinkin’ that ya’ll can’t come over as a… safe haven I guess,” Atticus grumbled as he pulled back, ruffling Melbourne’s hair. “Jes git yer ass over t’mah place anytime ya’ll want, got it?” Melbourne smiled a little, nodding.

“’Kay…”

----------------------

Corrs sighed as he exited his first period class. People were either trying to irk him or talk to him. Either way, it got really annoying. But he couldn’t hold up a scowl all the time. With a blank expression, the native Jamaican turned and began to ascend the stairs to his second period class. Thankfully, the school was pretty easy to navigate.

‘Prolly ‘cause of the size of this place,’ he thought, looking at the passing students. It seemed that everyone knew almost everyone else. Even so, Corrs could tell who would attack him and who wouldn’t. Black seemed to be a taboo color in this school. And even though he owned several black shirts, he hadn’t worn one yet.

He would probably be lynched by those who loved the KKK if he had.

The Fierce Taipans was what he heard them called. Idiots, as he referred to them. He glared at two teenagers who wore black bandanas on their heads. They glared back at him, but a girl quickly strode up beside Corrs and the Taipans. The Jamaican looked down at her. She was small, probably a freshman. The girl looked up to Corrs and gave him a shy smile before scampering off.

He watched her, arching a brow. She was the fourth person to “help” him this day. Several times already, several students would walk beside him or attempt to talk to him when one of the Taipans approached. Corrs felt… uneasy about it. Back in Kingston, he was a member of the gang, picking fights and hunting down those who didn’t belong. Now up here, he was the one being targeted.

And defended.

The hall was almost empty as Corrs approached his classroom. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t see the group of Taipans approach until he almost ran into one. Immediately putting a dark scowl on his face, the teenager glared at the Taipans.

“Leave me alone,” he growled. One of them snickered as he shook his head.

“We don’t take no orders from negros here, blackie. Now, best you follow us to a… better place,” the greasy Southern moron moved to grab him, but Corrs quickly took two steps back as he slightly raised his hands into a defensive position. The bell rang, signaling the beginning of second period. Corrs felt a smirk form on his lips as he sneered.

“C’mon, whitey. Let’s dance.”

“Hey!” a girl’s voice called out sharply. The Taipans and Corrs looked over to see two girls standing in the hallway. Both of them wore pink gothic clothing and were glaring at the Taipans. One had green streaked through her hair as she pointed to them.

“Ya’ll better back off an’ leave ‘im alone!” she frowned. Corrs arched an eyebrow. She looked to be way to frail to order around a bunch of older students. Burly, white trash Southern hick boys, at that.

Just then, two male students rounded the corner behind the girls and stopped short when they saw the scene. Both of them frowned and walked up to beside the girls.

“Hey, what’s going on?” one of them asked. The green-streaked girl looked to him.

“They’s pickin’ a fight with Corrs,” she said, jabbing her thumb in their direction. Corrs watched them, then straightened. He decided to see what would happen. Back home, no one ever came to the rescue of those he and his gang members persecuted. He was intrigued. Why would they do this? The Taipans obviously were stronger than those four.

One of the Taipans glowered as they took a step towards the four, “ya’ll better git on goin’. We got our business with the blackie to do.”

“Heh! Did you just say ‘blackie’?” a teenager spoke up from beside one of the girls, cocking his head to the side. “You sound like my dumb shit grandfather, wearing his white sheet like a hippie or something.”

“The hell did you jes say!?” a Taipan spoke up, holding up a fist as he snarled. Corrs watched the exchange as a teacher poked his head out of a classroom. He stared at the situation, sighed, then went back into the classroom. Corrs stared after him and couldn’t help but feel a bit surprised. An adult did nothing? As the Taipans and the four students exchanged words, Corrs could hear someone speaking up from within the classroom. A second later, several students exited the room and came straight into the hall. The Taipans surrounding Corrs looked a bit uneasy as they surveyed the new comers.

“Hey, what the hell do ya’ll think you’re doin’?” a guy in a football jersey spoke up, narrowing his green eyes at the Taipans.

“Nothin’,” the Taipan that had spoken earlier replied as he backed away from Corrs. “C’mon, let’s get goin’ t’class.” He moved to walk away as the others followed. Corrs watched them leave, then looked around to everyone. Some of them smiled and went to go off to their class while others simply nodded to Corrs in greeting.

Feeling awkward, Corrs nodded back and walked towards his classroom. The teacher briefly looked up, mentioned something about tardy, and then resumed teaching. Corrs took his seat, taking out a notebook. He didn’t write down anything the teacher was saying, instead thinking about what had happened.

Why did those students come out? He knew that because of the fight he and Atticus got into, some of the student body thought that he was a trouble maker. So why would they defend someone who beat up one of their own?

The teacher paused in his speaking again. Corrs looked up to see the reason as to why, noticing that the green streaked girl was walking through the doors. She took her seat a little ways from Corrs. He watched her for a moment before looking back to his paper. He began to scribble some doodles on it, his thoughts keeping him from concentrating on the prattling math the teacher was instructing.

“Psst,” someone behind him whispered and poked at his shoulder. Corrs immediately glared to the kid, but instead found a small piece of folded paper being handed to him. Taking it silently, the teen opened it up. The noise sounded impossibly loud in the classroom, but no one took notice thankfully. Corrs read the bubbly words:

Hey there! My name’s Marlene Deacon. smile Don’t worry about those dumb taipans well look out for you Coors. Their’s alot of people on your side!

Marlene

Corrs glanced around, noting that the green streaked girl kept glancing from the board to him. When she noticed he was staring at her, she winked and waved a little. The Jamaican only looked back at the note and sighed as he took his pencil and wrote a reply on the same sheet.

My name’s spelled Corrs.

He stared at it, frowned, then rigidly wrote in a ‘thanks’. Folding it back up, he turned slightly to place the folded paper on the kid’s desk behind him. The teen then folded his arms on his desk and placed his chin on them, closing his eyes and pretending to sleep.

Tentatively, he thought the actions of the students before were pretty decent.

--------------------------

It was eighth period. The school’s crowd had been talking about the hottest topic of the day.

The local band Atticus was holding auditions for a new member.

Granted, Corrs Songi was still a pretty hot subject. The student body had been very accepting of Corrs. The majority of them at least.

The Taipans had made a move during second period against Corrs, attempting to lead the teenager to a more secluded part of the school. Those not part of the Taipans fiercely defended Corrs, fending off the vicious teenagers.

The student body talked about nothing else… until fourth period when the Atticus flyers were posted and handed out. Everyone in Jacksonville High felt that the band would definitely make it in the “real world” and not just stay as a garage band. Whoever would be chosen as the fourth member would have a ticket for the ride to all of that fame and glory.

Atticus gave a nod to two guys who held up his flyer, giving him a thumbs-up. Under his orders, Sadie had to print out 20 more copies of their ad. She, Mel, and he posted the flyers around and handed them out in between classes starting at fourth period. Now the whole school was excited about this turn of events. So excited that it drowned out the news of the almost attack on Corrs Songi.

“Man Montgomery, you somehow always git th’center of attention on ev’rythin’ in this damn school,” a rather robust student walked up to Atticus. The brunette gave the boy a grin.

“Hell yeah, better’n ya’ll.”

“Tch, ‘course better’n me,” the guy laughed, shaking his head. He patted Atticus on the shoulder as he turned left and headed towards his class. Atticus only waved after him as he entered the library. Two students exclaimed something incomprehensible, waving to Atticus with large grins on their faces. The librarian hissed a ‘Silence!’ to them as Atticus only winked and gave them a wave. He looked to the four tables of his study hall and grinned even bigger. Corrs was sitting at a table, but two other students were there.

‘An’ they ain’t got a scrap o’ black clothin’ on ‘em,’ the teen saw as he sat down beside Corrs.

“Hey,” Atticus greeted, putting his books down on the table. Corrs only looked up and gave him a shrug.

“Hey.”

The Jamaican seemed a bit different. Calmer, maybe. Thinking nothing of it, Atticus looked to the other two teens. One was some guy with a bright red t-shirt on over a dark grey long sleeved shirt. His hair was gelled heavily to the side. He looked up at Atticus and nodded a greeting. Atticus returned the nod as he sat down, looking at the other teen. She wore a white long sleeved shirt with some sort of comic character that Atticus had never seen.

“Th’hell’s that?” he asked, pointing to the figure on the pig-tailed girl’s shirt. “Looks like sumthin’ outta Cap’in America or whatnot.”

The girl beamed as she looked down, “he’s th’main character in an online comic series. It’s real good if you’re into action.”

Atticus laughed as he sat back in his chair, slinging an arm over the back. “Hell yeah. Love it as much as I love music.”

“Yeah? An’ ya’ll’re havin’ some sortive audition this Saturday, right?” the boy asked. Atticus scratched at his cheek, nodding.

“Sure am. So if ya’ll got any kinda talent with th’good ol’ guitar or th’computer, c’mon over. Ya’ll know where I live?”

“Oh, we’d like to but I can’t play anything,” the girl laughed nervously as she got out a notebook from her book bag. “I’m more of an artist…” The guy beside her nodded as he looked over to Corrs.

“Do you play guitar?”

Corrs looked to him, then shook his head, “nope.” His answer was short and the gelled teenager only nodded slightly, opening up his knapsack to get a book. Atticus looked over to Corrs.

“Can ya’ll do anythin’ with a computer?”

Corrs regarded Atticus silently before sighing, placing an elbow on the table as he rested his chin in his hand. “Yeah. Used to make some sick tracks for the club I ripped at.”

The Southerner blinked, tilting his head, “th’club ya’ll ripped at? Heh, like… Rippin’ a big one or sumthin’?”

“…are you serious?” Corrs asked, arching a brow. Atticus laughed as he shook his head.

“Man, ya’ll gotta start getting’ some sorta sense o’ humor in ya’ll…”

There was a pause, “yeah, I’ll get on that. Anyway, rippin’ means that I mixed songs to play for the dances.”

“Oh wow, that sounds so cool,” the teenaged girl spoke, looking up from her doodle. “What kind of music?”

Atticus watched Corrs shift his gaze from him to the girl. The teenager seemed cautious as he gave an indifferent shrug.

“Most music. Mostly mixes between reggae and rock,” he replied, then… was that a grin? Atticus peered closer to see. “Lotta people liked it, said it was different. …Can you stop?” he sharply asked, glaring over at Atticus.

The teen only chuckled as he held up his hands, “right, right. But I coulda sworn I jes seen a smirk on that face o’ yers…”

Corrs rolled his eyes as he zipped open his book bag, “yeah, right.” Atticus grinned over to the other two teens. The girl was already back to her doodle as the guy slowly shook his head, opening a math book. Atticus figured to get to his homework done too as he pulled the black music tape out of his pocket.

“Here,” he said, flipping his English text book open as he plopped the tape on Corrs’s book. The Jamaican blinked, then picked it up.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me…” he murmured, turning the tape over before looking to Atticus with a scowl. Atticus glanced up from his text book.

“Kiddin’ what? I got th’tape ya’ll wanted yesterday. Excited ‘bout it?” he laughed as Corrs hung his head.

“Sure,” he replied.

------------------------

Melbourne sighed heavily as he shut his locker. The final bell had already gone off, and most of the students had left the school. Mel stared at his wrist, feeling particularly sluggish. Despite his shaky morning, Atticus and he had a nice day. They didn’t really fight anymore about it, and Atticus thankfully didn’t bring it up.

‘Probably because our flyers and that stupid tape,’ he thought.

Regardless, it still frightened him. Atticus knew about his cutting. The teen sighed as he placed his forehead against the locker in front of him. How did he find out? Mel had been preparing himself to tell Atticus, only to find out that the teen already knew. Feeling his stomach twist, Melbourne shook his head. He had to concentrate on something else, or he’d end up doing something stupid.

‘An’ then I’ll have to punish myself,’ he grazed a few fingers over his right wrist as he moved away from his locker. The teen turned and ran into something. Blinking, he took a few steps back and blinked when he saw two tall teenagers standing before him. Shifting his knapsack’s strap, his light blue eyes glanced at one teen to the next, feeling a bit nervous. He recognized them.

“Finally found you, Patterson,” one of them spoke up.

“Uhm, s-sorry?” he offered softly. Ever since the band’s performance near the beginning of the month, no one really teased him much at all. Very different from the year before.

The other scoffed as he took a step forward and leaned over Melbourne, who felt very small suddenly. Both of them were tall and muscular, with short brown hair and mean brown eyes.

“You’re one lucky bitch, y’know that Patterson? If your dumb ass band wasn’t so popular, we wouldn’t be doin’ our homework this year,” he said, poking a finger at Mel’s chest. The teen bit his lip as he took a step back, wondering if he should even say anything. He remembered these two well. Robert and Rupert Thompson. They were twins, and they loved to pick on innocent freshmen. From forcing a poor freshman to doing the twins’ homework to simply beating them up, the two seniors seemed to thrive in providing pain.

‘So why are they after me?’ Mel questioned himself as he opened his lips. “Uhm… I-I’m not a freshman this year…”

“And?” the other one scoffed as he stepped up beside his brother, boxing Mel in against the lockers. The teenager felt his heart pound several times as he tightened his grip on the strap, staring down at the ground.

“An-And shouldn’t ya’ll be… be pickin’ on someone… else?” he muttered, venturing a quick glance to them. Both of them were grinning in a very alarming way.

“But you’re our fav, Patterson. You did everythin’ we asked so nicely,” Robert asked. Mel only knew it was Robert because the senior liked to call the stubble of hair on his chin a beard.

“Yeah. Never complained or told anyone either. It’s hard to find too help like that nowadays,” Rupert chuckled as he placed an arm on the locker, leaning closer to Mel as he held up a fist. “Violence can only go so far, y’know?”

“Hey!” a deep voice suddenly spoke up. The three teenagers turned to see who had spoken and Mel’s eyes widened considerably. Randy Clellen!?

Robert frowned as he and his brother stepped away from Melbourne. Randy walked up to them, another teenager beside him. Both of them wore football uniforms and looked pretty dirty.

‘I guess the football team’s practicin’… so why are they here?’ Mel thought as he looked at the guy beside Randy. Despite the school’s small size, there were still a few students that he had never seen before. Though the guy looked a bit familiar. Before Mel could think about it anymore, one of the twins spoke up.

“So Clellen, what’re you and Lex doin’ here?” Randy walked over, glancing at Melbourne. He smirked a bit, then looked back at the twins. The other boy, presumably Lex, stood beside him. Mel couldn’t help but stare for a moment. The teenager’s green eyes flickered over to Mel, staring back. Melbourne quickly looked away, brows furrowing together. The guy looked so familiar…

“Ensurin’ that my woman’s friends are bein’ treated proper,” he replied, then motioned to Melbourne. “Back off him, else you’ll be facin’ off not only me ‘n Lex here, but all of my good ol’ buds. An’ there’s a good twenty-plus of us.”

Rupert exchanged glances with Robert, who frowned at Randy as he spoke lowly, “so you’re protectin’ our territory? That’s hardly like you, Clellen.”

Randy narrowed his blue eyes as Lex piped up, “like it matters now. What matters now is that th’two of you shut yer traps an’ git a move on ‘fore we call th’whole football team up here t’play some Burnin’ Desire.”

“Or ya’ll can do a nice elephant walk fer us,” Randy added, nudging Lex with a laugh. Rupert and Robert immediately looked uncomfortable as they moved away from Melbourne, who felt a bit confused.

‘Burnin’ desire? Elephant walk?’

Rupert glanced at Melbourne before sighing angrily and started to walk away, grabbing his brother’s arm.

“C’mon, it’s not worth it,” he mumbled as his brother followed. Melbourne watched them go before looking over to Randy and Lex. He opened his mouth, but Randy turned to him with a grin.

“So, still hatin’ on me now Patterson? Th’two of us jes saved yer ass. What ya gotta say ‘bout it?” he said, holding out a hand to Melbourne. The teen blinked, staring at the hand before awkwardly putting out his own.

“Th-Thank you…”

“No prob,” Randy effortlessly replied, slapping Melbourne’s hand. Lex turned to Mel, also grinning.

“So you’re Sadie’s friend?” he asked. Mel noticed that the teen spiked his brown hair as he stared at him. Before he could answer, Lex suddenly pointed to him. “Oh! I remember now. You were at th’bowlin’ alley, right? What, you work there?”

“Yeah, he does,” Randy answered for Melbourne. The teen only nodded to the two as he forced himself to look away from Lex with a grimace. A dirty hand entered his field of vision.

“I’m Alex Lexford.” Melbourne held out his hand, expecting another high five. But Lex took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Call me Alex, ‘kay? I hate th’name Lex.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get used to it ‘til hell week’s over, got it?” Randy grinned to Alex. “You’ll have t’earn the right to be called what you wanna be called. I had t’wait a good month ‘fore they started callin’ me Clellen ‘stead of RC.”

“Hell week?” Melbourne spoke up. His curiosity at all of the new terms he was hearing was too powerful to keep down. He flushed as the two football players looked to him, then exchanged glances. Randy only laughed as he slapped Mel’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry yourself ‘bout it, Patterson. Jes make sure next time someone’s messin’ with ya, you get either me or Lex t’help.” The teenager nodded, rubbing his sore shoulder.

“O-Okay. Uhm, thank you, Randy… A-Alex…” he felt awkward saying their names. Randy only gave him a wave as Alex smiled to him. The two turned and walked down the hall.

“Alright, so what’re we s’pposed to do now?” Mel heard Alex speak up.

“They told us t’go sneak into th’girls’ locker room an’ get them a prize or some shit like that. Fun, huh?” Randy’s reply echoed through the hall along with his laugh and Mel couldn’t help but stare at their retreating figures.

He tensed as he realized exactly what part of their figure he was looking as he quickly turned away. The teenager shook his head, closing his eyes tightly.

‘No, no! That’s bad, very bad you stupid moron,’ he berated himself as he brushed his fingers over his pocket. He could feel the faint outline of his cutter as he glanced up and began to head towards the nearest bathroom.

-----------------------

The world has come to an end
Oh wait, that’s just in my head
Boredom, the ultimate weapon
Mr. Whoever, the inane killer
Augh, just freakin’ SHUT IT!

Corrs made a face as he quickly pressed the stop button on his tape recorder. The fact that he even owned one was incredible. Granted, it belonged to his mother, but still. Without it, he wouldn’t have been able to hear the shit he had just listened to.

‘Their lyrics are all a mess, the rhythm doesn’t even match the tempo, and he’s trying to pull guitar solos in the middle of the damn chorus!’ Corrs glared at the tape held within the recorder. The music was awful, every second of it. He couldn’t deny that they had talent, but everyone and their mother had some lick of talent, however small. This band wasn’t anything special.

Regardless, the fact that this Southern band completely sucked ass really made Corrs’s job a lot easier. The Jamaican could already tell where they took inspiration from. Being a self-proclaimed mastermind of a DJ, the teenager knew all of the genres of music. Including the disgusting melodies of emo rock and new rock. Atticus definitely derived almost all of their inspiration from that particular genre.

‘Though I could definitely pick up hints of Led Zeppelin and Journey,’ Corrs got up from his bed, sinking into his swivel chair. If Atticus added some techno or blues into their songs, it’d be something at least worthwhile to listen to.

Looking around his room, the teen frowned heavily. It was larger than his one back in Jamaica. His walls were covered with the posters he had down there; old time rappers and singers, a few posters he made of himself and his friends from the computer that he blew up then laminated, beautiful women in swimsuits, and some rare, prized posters of rave shows from the ‘80s. Staring at a poster of a florescent crowd standing still in their dance, Corrs focused on the DJ on the stage. The man’s hand rose in the air, a large grin on his face. He was frozen on the glossy paper, forever to smile and wave that hand. The teenager grinned a bit, raising his hand back at him.

‘I’ll show these idiots what real music is,’ Corrs thought as he turned to his computer and began searching through his immense music library for Wings of a Pig.

----------------------------

MSI is love.