i just felt that today was the day u know <3 please dont read the old authors notes they r so cringey i was 15 but i will not delete them bc im lazy <3

"Are you nervous?"

"Of course I'm nervous."

"Don't get snappy with me, Frankie."

"You're my boyfriend, not my mum."

"Shut it, now come on, you're going to be late."

And perhaps Frank found far too much joy in slamming the car door on his boyfriend as he stumbled up through the staff car park and made his way to the front steps, and one hell of a reception and a woman he reckoned he never ever wanted to cross.

And this was very moment that twenty five year old Frank Iero wanted to grab his teaching degree and fucking burn the thing, right before the eyes of the whole fucking world, because this was literally the worst idea in the world, and Frank was totally certain of that, and it wasn't just nerves; Frank really wanted to just run, and leave and never come back.

But Max would definitely kill him if he chickened out now, and Frank really did begin to wonder just how much his boyfriend really was acting as his mother; it wasn't even like Max was more than a year older than him, and the two had met at a concert, and it was every cliché, and Frank just loved how easy it all was, and the dude could fucking cook, and he totally wasn't even that angry when Frank had adopted yet another dog last week, even though they already had two, and Max had made some stupid joke about the dogs paying rent and-

"Are you just going to stand there?" The receptionist from hell suddenly made Frank very aware of the fact that he'd kind of been stood on the same spot for about ten hours, having some sort of half hearted nervous breakdown: it really must have been a sight.

"I... uhh..." Frank's cheeks flushed the absolute worst shade of red as he turned to the woman, "I'm the new English teacher, Mr Iero." He added, stumbling over his words just a little.

"Yeah, I can tell you're new." She added with a roll of her eyes that Frank felt better to just pretend he hadn't noticed. "Head wants to see you in his office- fu- I totally have to show you where that is, don't I?"

Frank thought it best to just refrain from saying anything at this point, and just watched as the receptionist from hell got up from her desk with what was nothing less than an extremely theatrical display of reluctance, and began walking down a corridor, and fucking entirely too fast, and Frank really felt like he was fifteen again, and dear god, why the fuck did he ever decide to be a teacher?

"Mr Urie, this is that new English teacher that you employed." Frank watched as the bitchy receptionist made her way back down the corridor after she'd deposited him at the head teacher's office, and Frank did really feel like a fucking child, and it really didn't help how she was going fucking all out with the ensuring that no one even thought for a moment that she was at all vaguely associated with him.

"You're probably the most nervous anyone's ever been, you just the radiate the whole 'I don't have a goddamn clue what I'm doing' vibe. I'm Brendon, Brendon Urie, call me Brendon." Mr Urie decided that being insanely blunt was the absolute best way to start this new boss/employee relationship.

"I'm sorry?" Frank stuttered out, his cheeks burning up.

"Oh no, it's fine, the kids absolutely love that, well they're not kids, this is a high school, I mean, I hope you already know that, but- yeah, they totally dig the 'confused, flustered, easy to manipulate' vibe." Brendon smiled in a way that was totally alien to the sentence that preceded the gesture and Frank wondered whether it was appropriate to ask his new boss if he was drunk or something. "Do sit down."

Frank nodded, making a move for the chair, when Brendon's eyes widened in such a manner that Frank didn't even deem scientifically possible, but whatever he wasn't a science teacher, now was he? "Is there something wrong?"

Brendon pointed behind Frank, and the twenty five year old turned to see nothing more than an open office door. "Haven't you ever heard of closing the goddamn door?" He slammed his fist against the table, as Frank stumbled to close it behind them, before then finally taking a seat.

"Sorry." He blushed for what was probably the millionth time in the past fifteen minutes.

"So, here's like your timetable and ten million pieces of paperwork that you should probably at least pretend to fill in or at least lie to me about maybe doing." Brendon smiled as he pushed a rather intimidating folder with Frank's name on it in front of him.

"Uhh... okay..." Frank nodded, if not a little hesitantly, because this was just about anything but what he'd been expecting.

"Look, okay, this is hardly the best school in the world, just please, please, please don't fuck the students, or set fire to it, or kill anyone, or go within like five miles of Agnes at reception, especially on Mondays because I think she threatened to decapitate me once." Brendon winced as he relived what was obviously a very traumatic memory. "So, you're room sixty eight B, and there's probably a map somewhere, but like all the rooms have numbers on, you'll find it eventually."

"You have a room A and a room B for each number?"

"No, oh, this was room sixty nine originally, but, uhh... that caused some problems, so we have a sixty eight A and a sixty eight B, and yeah, the last teacher that was in that room was called Mr Cocking, and well, room sixty nine, and let's just say that he isn't the same man as when he started, but don't let that put you off, he was old, students like young teachers, like you're like twenty something, pretty attractive, you'll be fine, just please don't sleep with the kids that flirt with you, like-"

"Are teacher student relationships a problem here?" Frank asked, his eyebrows raising a little.

"Nope, absolutely not, I'm just very paranoid, and you're going to be teaching a lesson in literally ten minutes so you might want to get yourself to room sixty nine, won't you Mr I-I... I... Ier-... Frank." And Frank found some sort of comfort in the fact that Mr Urie seemed to have as little of a clue as to what he was doing as Frank himself did.

"Room sixty eight B, you mean." Frank corrected him as he got to his feet, "it's I-"

"You know what, I'll just call you Frank, oh and don't forget to close the goddamn door!"

-

"Mr Lero?" A tall kid with what Frank could call nothing less than a truly tragic haircut squinted at the name scribbled on the board as he made his way in. "Aren't names supposed to have capital letters, hell, aren't you an English teacher as well, like I know this school's crap, but you should know that."

"It's Iero, that's an 'I' not an 'L'." Frank shook his head and made the 'I' more prominent with the whiteboard marker.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna call you Lero." The same kid shook his head as he sat down, leaving Frank to consider smashing his head against a wall as the rest of his very first class filtered in.

"Can anybody pronounce my name, or am I going to have to give up here?" Frank asked, glancing at his surname scribbled on the board with a defeated gaze.

"Nope." Added a kid on the back row with green hair that Frank probably should be telling him off for, but that was totally Frank in high school and he reckoned he would defy the unspoken rules of teaching by actually having a heart.

"Yeah, Mr Oreo, I'm gonna-"

"That's an 'I', are you blind? It's pronounced, Irow, obviously-"

"Yeah, no." Frank shook his head, erasing his name on the board. "Just call me Frank, how about that?" And Frank knew this was all kinds of unprofessional, but he'd just been told to lie to the head teacher about doing the paperwork, by the head teacher himself, so he reckoned that perhaps there were things far more concerning in this school than what people called the English teacher in room 'sixty eight B'.

"Can I call you dickhead?" The 'Lero' kid spoke up, perhaps just testing the waters here, and Frank should have sent him out, but Frank had really lost all hope already.

"Go for it, kid, go for it." He shook his head in disbelief as he took a seat at his desk. "Alright, so, do you want to tell me your names or something?"

"I'd rather shove a cactus up my ass." And perhaps Frank really should have sent 'Lero kid' out, but fuck his life.

"Ouch," Frank winced, shaking his head, "alright then, cactusfucker, what about you?" He pointed to the kid behind cactusfucker, "any name you'd like me to call you?"

"Did you really just say fuck-" Some girl on the front row exclaimed, her eyes almost widening in excitement.

"No, I said cactusfucker, if you were listening, and do you want me to give you a detention for not listening in class?" Frank raised his eyebrows, smirking a little, "you know what? When you write your names on your work just draw a shitty little picture of yourself so can I see who you are-"

"Art is not shitty!" Green hair kid exclaimed, in a face of mock horror, "goddamn, Lero, all art is art, everyone is special and unique, and we all-"

"Art cannot be shitty, what can be shitty is your opinion of it." Another kid with blonde hair added, the class laughing along to some sort of joke that Frank felt incredibly left out of. "Quote, Mr Way, 2015."

"Who's this Mr Way then?" Frank asked, eyes widening a little as the class continued to giggle.

"He lives in his own ass-"

"Hey, Mr Way isn't that bad, he's just... a bit weird, he's pretty cool actually, you know?" 'Oreo kid' added in defense of the elusive Mr Way.

"He never shuts up about cats and that trip to Paris that's never going to happen." Green hair kid added, shaking his head a little.

"Well, you know what? He's wanted the trip to Paris for like four years now, and like, we're nearly there, and it's going to be great, and I'll make sure you're not invited-"

"What by sucking his dick, again?" Green hair kid and the Oreo girl were bordering the heated argument, and Frank found himself looking at 'Lero kid' for help.

"Hey, guys, everyone knows Mr Way is a massive cocksucking gaylord, he wouldn't want Amy anywhere near his dick for a million dollars, you however, Ricky..." 'Lero' raised his eyebrows as he made some sort of cocksucking hand gesture, which was really not helping Frank's confidence at all.

"Can we stop talking about cocks and sucking them, you know? This is English, not health." Frank let out a sigh, glancing at the class for any form of help whatsoever, but of course, they were little but apathetic to him.

"Hey, Frank, are you being homophobic there? Do you not want us to talk about cocksucking because it-"

And Frank just laughed, shaking his head a million times over, "no, I'm really not homophobic."

"Said every straight person ever." Added a kid with curly hair on the back row.

"I'm not straight." And with that kind of bombshell, Frank decided it was a perfect time to kick start his powerpoint on 'The Catcher In The Rye', because it was like Frank's favourite book, and he totally knew what he was doing, and Max hadn't totally made half of this powerpoint for him, because Max totally didn't act as his actual mum for like his whole life, but he kind of did, because in a way, Frank was very much still fifteen.

"Anyway, kids, The Catcher In The Rye, has anyone read it?"

"Hey, sir, how many cocks have you sucked?" And Frank wondered how on earth he ever even thought he could have just gotten away with that.

"Nowhere near as many as your mum."

And it was that very moment that Frank decided that he was indeed a teaching professional, because the class were clapping, there were 'oh my god's, and 'that burn's, and Frank felt like a motherfucking superstar, and that was indeed what teaching was about, not education, but bettering your ego by proving to yourself that you can make a bunch of tired, pissed off sixteen year olds laugh.

-

"Oh my god." Come break time, Lindsey Ballato slammed the classroom door behind her as she stumbled into the empty room, besides 'the elusive Mr Way', sat at a spinning office chair he totally hadn't stolen from IT last week, eating poptarts, as he sat 'marking students work', like every other self respecting twenty nine year old man.

"Don't say the lord's name in vain, Miss Ballato." Gerard raised his eyebrows, pulling his headphones out of his ears, because yes he cared about Lindsey that much, well she was the only tolerable person in this school, so he did indeed find himself clinging onto her for dear life more often than not.

"I'm pretty sure I walked into an art classroom and not a religious education one, but alright then, preacher." She threw her bag to the floor and took a seat besides Gerard. "You should totally steal me one of those chairs too." She added, gesturing towards the totally honestly acquired spinning chair Mr Way was sat on.

"They're gonna start to notice, you know, and it's not like the fucking scientific shitheads don't hate me enough, is it?" Gerard shook his head, "I can give you a poptart though."

Lindsey reckoned that the poptart would have to suffice, as she took one from the box and took a bite, "you know, I do have some pretty interesting news, but if you're going to be so rude to me-"

"Lindsey, we work in a school, the most interesting news was when they changed room sixty nine to room sixty eight B, like that was actually fucking spectacular." But despite his skepticisms, Gerard looked up at Lindsey with wide eyes: eager for her to continue, because anything to help him procrastinate from all this work he had to do.

"Well, it's to do with room sixty nine, actually, so yeah, they finally hired a new teacher for it, and some of my class had him first lesson, and well, I'm intrigued."

"Is this like the second incarnation of Mr Cocking or something?" Gerard asked, raising his eyebrows a little.

"I reckon this dude is either the best or the worst teacher I've ever heard about: literally one minute into class, the class can't pronounce his last name, it's like Lero, with an I, or something, Irow, fuck knows, so he just gets them to call him Frank-"

"So? Loads of kids call me Gee." Gerard raised his eyebrows, determined to be unimpressed by the apparently magical Mr Lero, that Lindsey seemed so goddamn starstruck over.

"And, yeah, Cody asked if he could call him dickhead, and he said 'go for it', apparently they did nothing, and it was somewhat amusing, and apparently he's twenty five, like new as fuck, no clue what he's doing: dark hair, pretty face, kind of short, bit of an asshole, totally your type-"

"Good god, Lindsey, he's an English teacher, I do not wish to associate with academia at all!" Gerard's eyes widened in what was nothing short of true horror.

"Gerard, you work in a school-"

"I have to take down the education system from the inside: my mission in life is to get the funding for this Paris trip, I'll be eighty seven and I'll die on the airplane, but we will get there." And Gerard reckoned he wasn't even exaggerating at this point. "Also, I really do not have the patience for straight people, like dear god, Lindsey, we have to protect each other from the heterosexuals, you got me?"

"Yeah, and then, Gerard, this is why I thought you might want to hear about this, he said he was gay, and made some sort of comment about cocksucking that I'm pretty sure got exaggerated- oh and, Amy said he has a cute butt, so I'd say maybe you'd want to pop down to room sixty nine, which sounds like a wonderful euphemism, later today."

"It's room sixty eight B." Gerard shook his head, as he took a bite of his poptart. "I'm not letting this dude steal my flaming homosexual presence, you know like? I am the gaylord, like lord of the gays, fucking Lero can fuck right off. I am the dominant homosexual here."

"Why don't you go get all dominant in room sixty nine then?"

"It's room sixty eight B, for fuck's sake, Lindsey, I'm not sleeping with an English, don't be so ridiculous." Gerard shook his head, "he's probably not even that hot, he's probably not even gay; you know kids always blow things out of proportion, like I told that Joe kid to clean paint off his finger and he told everyone I told him to finger me."

"No, Gee, Joe's just deaf, like he wears hearing aids, he probably genuinely misheard you-"

"Clean that paint off your finger and finger me sound completely different: kid's fucking with us, you know that? It's a totally great bluff - gotta give him that, but there's no way he got the two mixed up." Gerard turned back down to his work, grinned a little, and held the painting up to Lindsey. "Don't you think this banana looks a bit like a horse?"

"Maybe you should stop with the poptarts-" Lindsey paused, grinning a little, "or better yet, get me a spinning chair, but you know what? If you at least consider this Lero dude, then I'll shut up about the chair-"

"What is your obsession with him, Jesus?" Gerard looked up at her in disbelief.

"This school is boring, I want something to talk about, and I want to spare myself the full force of all your complaints and stupid anecdotes."

Gerard narrowed his eyes, "how about I get you the chair and you stop going on about this dude altogether, because I'm really not interested-"

"Do you really not want me to talk about the singles in your area?"

"I'd really rather you just let me moan about being bitter and single to you-"

"No, Gee, that's not how it works: you're only allowed to moan if you make an effort-"

"Now that sounds like something from room sixty nine." Gerard added, smirking a little.

"Room sixty eight B, you mean."

-

hey lmao i said i'd write the first paragraph but now we're here the actual story of my life, lmao anyway, this is what's replacing demolition lovers i actually love it already like actually dead af. votes and comments would be rad and i love you all super lots <3