...Tom was shoved into the cellblock by two prison guards, "Hey! Watch it you pricks!" He hissed, flipping off the guards who simply closed the door and locked it with a slam.

Tom slammed his fist on the door, "You're next!"

There were some snickers outside of the door before Tom kicked it.

"Hey, newbie, calm down, you're just making yourself look dorky." A voice came from across the cellblock which was only lit by a window in the door and on the wall beside it that faced the balcony-hall outside.

Tom flinched, turning on his heel and clutching the orange jumpsuit to his chest and then facing the boy who had spoken, "Wh-who're you?"

"You're giving yourself away, kid, you're stuttering already and it's only been what? ...five seconds?" The boy cocked an eyebrow, "How long are you in here?"

"Who wants to know?" Tom narrowed his eyes.

"Stop- just, stop saying things like that, this isn't a TV show, so stop quoting some and introduce yourself."

Tom scoffed, "No, you've got not right to know my name."

"God, don't tell me you're one of those stuck up rich boys who's in here because he didn't understand how the world works, are you?" The boy groaned.

"This is none of your business!" Tom yelled angrily, "I'm not- stuck up!"

"You sure as hell are proving that, aren't you then?"

Tom gritted his teeth with a growl.

"Well, if you're going to do the whole no-info game, that's fine and all, but step into the light so I can at least get a good look at my new cellmate." The boy nodded.

"Don't order me around!" Tom huffed.

"Stop throwing a tantrum and stand at the back of the room so the light hits your face." The boy pointed to the desk which only had a phone and dirty laundry on it at the moment.

Tom lit up, "We have a phone?"

"We each can make one call a week. So it only functions twice." The boy nodded.

Tom began to step towards it before the boy got up and advanced towards the phone, grabbing it.

"Hey! What's that for?" Tom frowned.

"Step into the light and I'll give it to you, deal?"

Tom didn't reply at first before sighing, "Trust me, you'll want to avoid seeing my face for as long as you can."

"I can imagine you're feeling intimidated than by my ruggedly hansom looks?"

Tom scowled, "I'll save you the mocking and tell you that your face will definitely look better than mine so I don't need you comparing anything, and no, it's not a birthmark like in phantom of the-" He suddenly hissed, recalling all the memories tied to that and suddenly realizing how ironic this was, considering what his role had been in the musical, "- ...musical things, and-"

"Oh? We've got a theatre boy?"

"Shut up!" Tom snapped, "I'm not afraid to fight you, wise guy!"

There was a pause before the boy began to laugh, "You? Fight me?" He stepped forward with a smirk, lifting his shades so they rested on his head, "Pal, nobody wants to tangle with me here."

Tom scoffed again, "I doubt that."

"Is that so?" He took a few threatening steps towards Tom, "I'd like to not prove myself on the first day of knowing you- especially because we'll have to be stand each other at the very most with your time here."

"What makes you so sure that I'll leave before you do?" Tom smirked smugly, "I've done some pretty bad-"

"I'm a sociopathic serial-killer." The boy's voice grew dark, "You can't call me that, I can call me that, and I've killed people in ways you'd have nightmares about if I told you and you knew you were sleeping in the same room as me." He muttered, every word seeming to drip with venom.

Tom felt his heart race and his mouth grow dry before he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and headed over to the back of the room, turning around to expose the gruesome scars that painted his face.

The boy turned and looked at him, but didn't flinch, instead just walked over and began to examine Tom's face, "Damn, that half of your face is like...gone- can you see out of your left eye?"

Tom was surprised that the other was curious, "It's...just blurry is all..." He set his jumpsuit down on the desk, "You're...not afraid of my face?"

"Am I supposed to be?" The boy reached a hand out, pausing before touching Tom's face, "Can I touch it?"

Tom was hesitant but nodded.

"Coolio." He nodded and held that side of Tom's face and running a thumb over it, "It's warm..."

Or that might be because you're caressing my cheek...

"Th-They're burn scars..."

"How'd you get them?" The boy looked at where Tom's lips were missing, this caused for Tom'a voice to sound a bit slurred sometimes, but one got used to it after awhile.

"A ner- asshole held his sunglasses up while beating me up and the sun caught in them and he caught my hair on fire which burned my face as well." Tom mumbled.

"Which would explain why your hair is thinner in the other side?"

"It'll grow back in about a year..." Tom muttered.

"Oo I get to watch it grow, like we have our own little plant in here." The boy purred, "Who owns the plant then, hm? Ready to give that valuable information up?" He took his hand away.

Tom looked at the other. The other who had just approached him without hurting him- not physically at least, and not yet- and looked at something his own little sister cried at when she looked at it...and instead was just...the fact that this boy wasn't afraid of him...it got Tom's heart going- however, he had no intentions whatsoever as to somehow fall for whatever charm this kid had- kid, he was probably older than Tom- regardless, his chest tightened up at the thought of Roman, and he was reminded that the heartache was still fresh, and he couldn't put someone else though what he'd done- especially putting himself through what he'd done...nonetheless, he was curious as to what this boy's name was, someone who had taken his lowest point and somewhat embraced it- or at the very least, didn't bring it lower, so, Tom figured he'd have to at least give him this, "Tom, my name is Tom- full first name is Thomas but call me Tom."

"Hm...I'd rather call you snake boy..."

Tom flinched, "Please don't."

"Well, now I have to!"

Tom groaned, "Listen, mystery kid-"

"Lea, my name is Lea- and by the looks of it, you're close to the same age as me but...I'm older."

"I'm just over legal age technically."

"Well, yeah," Lea smirked, "You wouldn't be here if you weren't, what'd you do to get in here, snake boy?"

Tom sighed again, he didn't want to go through what he'd just lived, the guilt and pure rage was still there, and the two feelings were battling each other, and the rage was winning for the time being, "I'll tell you eventually."

Lea paused before nodding, "That works- but I'll probably find out by the first phone call you make, huh?"

"Meaning?"

"They'll all either be pleasing for someone to bail you out or revenge calls." Lea shrugged.

"How do you know I won't call my- family or something?"

"Because it took you a minute to figure out a substitute for what I had just said, and you were so angry when you came in that I'm guessing you're either angry at them too or too ashamed to talk to them."

Tom was quiet, "Is us being here just going to be you writing my life up?"

"And being correct about it? Probably, what else could happen?" Lea chuckled.

The two looked at each other and shrugged, "Yeah."

You have no idea.