Set two weeks after the last chapter.

Finally! They're fucking back! It took long enough, Jackson got home sometime yesterday morning and Luke just texted me saying he's landed at the airport. Goodbye boredom and hello fun. Christ, how geeky did that just sound? Ah well. It's just good to know that I'll be able to do something 'constructive' for the rest of the holidays. At least it'll get me out of the house and away from my moping mother, the Lord of the three up three down is on the road for the next few days so she's pining in his absence. Pathetic. Ian's out and about trying to sell faulty plumbing to the poor folks down in Nottingham. That's actually how he met me mum, well, back then he was selling double glazing door to door and my mum, falling more for his eyes than his sales pitch, agreed to buy double glazing for every bloody window in the house. Practically bankrupting us! We didn't see him for a couple of months after that if I remember rightly, it was six years ago after all, but he eventually came back and asked mum to dinner.

He was alright back then I guess, he was always popping round and bringing loads of stuff for me and Lisa. Crayons, colouring books, toy cars, games and clothes. It was only when Lisa left for university a couple of years ago that he turned into such a bastard. Ah well, fuck it, fuck him. So yes, as I was saying before I started rambling on about Ian, the guys are finally back in town. I rung Jackson up this morning and was promptly told to 'fuck off and let me sleep.'. Polite little fucker isn't he? Shit, I'm swearing an awful bloody lot today, maybe I should stop. As I remember, a very famous man (George Washington) once said 'The foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing and swearing is a vice so mean and low that every person of sense and character detests and despises it.' Ah well, I guess I'm not a person of sense and character. Besides, he's dead, he can't tell me what to do. Well, I guess dead people can tell you what too do. I mean, look at all the fuss Jesus is still kicking up today and he's long gone. Better not let my mum hear me saying that, she'd beat my ass for that one. Bible nut.

I just can't seem to keep on topic today, well, I can rarely keep on topic but today seems worse than usual. Must be the ADD. Well, it would be the ADD if I had ADD, but since I don't then I can only blame it on my small brain. I don't actually have a small brain, well, at least I don't think I do, I've never tried to measure it before; but my head is normal sized so I'm guessing my brain is to. See, I'm doing it again. Anyway, so yes, Jackson's suffering from jetlag and Luke isn't home yet. So what am I going to do for the rest of the day? Besides write in my 'journal' that is. My theatre group is on later tonight. Yes, I'm in a theatre group and I'm pretty damn good at it on occasion, so that's where I'm heading later, and by later I mean in about ten minutes. I love drama and theatre, I think it encompasses everything you need to know to survive in life. You learn to lie, become someone that you're not on demand, manipulate people with body language and change the way they feel without them knowing it. Of cause some people consider those things negatively, I don't they've helped me get to where I am. Anyway, I've got to go, the clock is striking four and it'll take me about five minutes to get there.

Jordan quickly shoved the journal, wrapped in brown leather, under his pillow and launched himself off of the double bed. Jordan's room was that of a typical teenage male's. White walls covered in his posters of naked women and football players, clothed football players that is. The blue carpet was hidden beneath piles of rubbish consisting of dirty clothes, paper, school work, magazines, games and DVDs. All furniture was pine and minimal. A dresser under the window, a nightstand by his bed and a desk housing his TV and XBOX opposite it.

It didn't take long for Jordan to find a clean top and he ran out the room after grabbing an old Nike hoody off of his floor.

"Where are you going young man?" His mother asked from her seat at the kitchen table; with a cup of tea in her hands and her apron tied around her back she looked like the perfect picture of domesticity. 'Fuck that' The young man thought.

"Out." His answer was short and his brows was burrowed as he attempted to slip his feet into a pair of trainers without loosening the knot he had tied last time he wore them. The whole theatre thing wasn't known amongst his friends or family, he had never told anybody about it or invited anybody to a performance, he doubted it would go down very well.. Theatre was for girls and fags. Not guys like Jordan.

Finally managing to do what seemed like it would be an impossible task Jordan turned to his mother, feet firmly placed in shoes, just in time to see her purse her lips in an attempt to avoid saying anything. She was always like this for a month or so after something like that happened but even he could see he was pushing it slightly. With a quick shrug and a "See you later." Jordan was out the door and riding down the paved street.

It was raining outside, again, that's all England really is, a continuous stream of rain and cold. Using one hand to tighten the hood under his chin Jordan pushed harder on the peddles, hoping to get to the theatre quickly and out of the rain.

It didn't take long to get there but by the time he had propped his bike up by the bins out back he was more than slightly damp. Slamming the large wooden door shut with an echoing bang Jordan shook his hair, attempting to get rid of any loose water droplets.

The theatre group met every Wednesday night during school term and every Wednesday and Friday out of school, all in all it they were a pretty decent group of people who didn't really give a shit when he ignored them at school or when he was near Luke and Jackson. They understood.

The town hall itself was huge which was pretty pointless as it was rarely used for anything other than the occasional play or dance recital but hey, if the council wanted to blow large amounts of money on stupid things who was he to stop them. With a quick sigh blue eyed teen walked towards the first room on his right, the auditorium. Swinging open this door as he had done the last he was greeted with a few chuckles.

"Fall into a puddle?" Some smartass quipped but quickly began laughing again as Jordan flipped her off and stalked towards an empty chair.

Wishmiester: Clichés and clichés for a reason! (They're fun to right and fun to read.) =P

Elani Kii: Thank you! Yeah, I've written a few things but nothing substantial, mostly one shots.

Oh and by the way, it may not seem like it but this chapter is actually a bit longer than the last. Real life is a bitch however. It's also unedited, the chapter that is, so if you can spot any glaring errors please point me in their direction.