Mountain Dew hangovers are the worst. Good thing my character has built-in dark glasses to avoid the judging stare of the Thursday sun, the Mountain Dew of days.

I passed out on a random day at some point in the night. I dunno which one, but I smell of mothballs and vinegar, which is a combination one doesn't see too often. Next thing I knew, I was being carried by Hayden, put in a blanket cocoon, and cuddled all night. I was the big spoon.

Of course, being a Thursday, I have to go to bizarro school and deal with another round of bullshit, only hangover, and again, Thursday. Fuck Thursday's. The only good thing about today is that I get to wake up next to Hayden. The saccharine of the little things that make me happy also makes me want to puke.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he says, caressing the top of my head lovingly. "How you feeling?"

"Like a truck just rammed into my asshole," I say. Seriously, it hurts like hell. Wait a minute. "Hey, did we-"

He shakes his meaty head, making the whole...bed? Futon? Where are we, exactly? "No, we didn't. We were both intoxicated. I'm a gentleman, after all. You just fell from a chair while dancing Taylor Swift songs and calling Arianna Grande a basic bitch."

Good thing I didn't lose my virginity in a drunken stupor. What? Of course I'm a virgin. Rule number 1: never stick your dick in crazy. And when you're a bad boy, anybody who wants you to put your dick in them is crazy.

I lean in and give him a kiss, morning breath and all. God, it stinks. "You're a good man, Hayden Gomez. Now, wanna give me a ride to school?"

His eyes look pained and red, but I think that's just the hangover. Or maybe it's the pain of not having me at school. But I'll bet on the hangover. "Alright. Let's go. I think there's a breakfast buffet waiting for us."

"Define 'buffet' here," I ask. Add your own question sign here.

"Mostly kimchi and pasta," he says.

"No, thank you. I prefer fasting for 40 days and having the devil tempt me in the desert," I say.

Hayden stands up, stretching and yawning like a lion enough to shake the.... Still don't know where we are. It's very comfy, though. Lots of plushies and soft pastel colors all around, like a hug. I stand up to stretch, moving with big steps as every joint in my body pops and locks like a mid 2000s dance movie. There is a plaque by the door that reads "Kid Nap Room." The room next door reads "Kidnap Room." I don't wanna know.

I see my phone to check the time, but see ten missed calls from my father. Sorry, this smells like plot, and I'm not going to deal with that while hungover.

We go out the door towards the exit, only to find Jungkook and Harry looking at us with giddy anticipation, which is kinda creepy coming from two middle-aged eggheads.

"Good morning, bosses," they say, taking a deep bow.

It occurs to me that I've never actually talked to them, and what little I've said to them has been with Brayden present. This is awkward.

"Good morning... you two," I say, giving them finger-guns.

"Morning, bros," says Hayden with a lot more panache than me. That's the pro of having a gender-neutral catchphrase, I guess. Bro is gender neutral, right?

They give us little gift bags with that clear plastic paper nobody knows where it comes from or where it goes, with some 1D CDs, skin creams, and a Glock. Just a goddamned Glock. Great.

"Hope you had a good time," says Jungkook. "The boss looked so happy and radiant yesterday, being the center of attention and all."

"I'm sure he did," I say. "And I don't know what else to say."

Hayden, being the dominant breedable stud he is, takes the lead. "I suppose Brayden will accompany us to school today?"

"Well, yes, about that..." says Harry, moving out of the way to reve--god dammit.

"Hello! Am Brayden!" says the Eastern European 40 years-old man who passes as Brayden's body double. "Am very good to see my friends in this today!"

"He's drunk off his ass, isn't he?" I ask Jungkook.

"I'm afraid so, yes," he says. "So, our friend here will take his place."

You know what? I already fixed one of his mistakes. He's a big boy that can make big boy decisions. We are living. Thanks for the gift baskets."

"They have gunpowder-scented soap!" he says.

I walk by the pair to exit the house when Jungkook grabs me by the arm. He leans in, the smell of sour cream and onion intensifying every inch, as his moist breath punches my earhole. "Also, the boss wants me to say that the matter you raised with him has been resolved."

In any other moment, this would've been a red flag, but I'm too hungover to try and decode this. Maybe it has to do with my father calling me over and over again. Maybe Brayden did pull a miracle. Unlikely, but possible.

Well, a miracle he did, for when I reach the school...I don't. Meaning, there is no school, just a smoldering crater of ash and broken promises.

This can only mean one thing.

Hayden takes out his phone before I can even comment, calling Brayden and putting it on speakerphone. After a few seconds of silence, a groggy voice whispers almost like a dream.

"what?" says Brayden, drawing every letter as if he was getting his teeth pulled.

"Don't what me, you soft-dom!" I yell. "What the fuck happened to my school?"

"first, don't yell at me, i'm smol," he whispers, with the sound of a blender ringing in the background. "second, your welcome."

"It's you're," I correct while grabbing the phone out of Hayden's hand. "And what do you mean? I didn't ask you to burn down my school!"

"ya, but you did ask me to deal with it," he growls. "you wanted me to help you get you back into the school, no?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. This shit is making my migraine worse by the second. "Yes, and what does that have to do with burning my school?!"

"i told you, fire solves everything," he says nonchalantly, followed by a long sip, "and if it doesn't, you're not using enough."

And because destiny is a fickle bitch, it is at this point that my phone rings with a number I've never seen before.

"ya might wanna pick up that phone, muchacho," says Brayden, followed by a click of him hanging up.

I take the other phone, pick the call up, and put it on speaker for Hayden to listen in as well.

"Hi, is this Hayden Gomez?" says a perky, if annoyed voice, which can only belong to a secretary, or a pediatrician. "I'm calling on behalf of the school district. You might wanna sit down for this."

Mrs. Strickland paces left and right while in the auditorium, now twice as full as before, muttering something under her breath. I can catch the word "Bullshit" and "Fucking Dickwad messing up my stease" before someone points out that the mike is live.

She gives a nervous giggle before clearing her throat. "Hello, and to those accompanying us from our sister school, welcome to Hill Valley Mountain Woods Highschool!"

A small contingent of people, all from the formerly-not-on-fire school, boo at her, followed by boos from the people of this school, and I'm sure one or two errand spirits join up as well. A very boo-rish affair. No, I won't apologize.

Mrs. Strickland seems checked out and continues to speak over the scarefest. "On behalf of the administration, we are so sorry that your principal's illegal activities caused a small fire that took out all your hopes and dreams for the future."

Brayden, who is standing next to me, hits me with his elbow while trying, and failing, to wink, only managing to painfully flutter both eyes.

"We have been asked to take 1/4th of the school's students under our wings while the rebuilding process is ongoing. Please, I ask you to give them a warm, cozy, timberwolves welcome to our visitors during their stay here."

A girl raises her hand and waives it enthusiastically, obviously not from this school. "Yeah, hi, hello, I have a question!"

"Uh, we are not open for questions at this moment," says Principal Strickland.

"Yeah, but, like, I kinda have one?" says the girl.

Mrs. Strickland stares at her over her glasses, having zero fucks to give. "Okay, sure. What's your question, sweetie?"

"Yeah, are you going to, like, honor the Itty Bitty Titty Committee?" says the girl with a jump of enthusiasm.

"The what?"

"The Itty Bitty Titty Committee," repeats the girl, as if she wasn't spewing pure nonsense. "It's a support club for small-breasted queens to fight against the patriarchal notion that big breasts are best."

I could say that Mrs. Strickland was like a deer stuck between a pair of headlights, but deers usually get killed, and that would've been a better outcome than this. "Excuse me? I don't understand the question."

The girl's bouncy demeanor changes into an infernal bullrush as her face becomes beet red with anger. "You stupid cow. You demented milk machine. Are you gonna let us continue our big-badonkadonk-hating group under your administration? Or is all that milk making you dizzy?"

Mrs. Strickland looks at the teachers, then at Lee, who is standing behind her, who steps forward to take command. "Hello, my name is Lee Vazquez, president of the student council, and no, we will not have new club applications at this time."

This causes a small uproar among the new students, all raising their voices at the same time.

"What about the embroidery club?!" yells a skinny boy from the front.

"And the cooking club?!" says a girl with a chef's hat, randomly.

"And the better cooking club where we actually make tasty stuff?!" says another guy behind the girl, wearing a bigger, cooler chef's hat with flames and shit.

"I'm gonna make you taste my foot if you don't shut up!" yells the girl, pushing the man away.

"I'm sure it tastes better than your quiche!" retorts the guy.

Hayden says "oh, snap" as a small circle of people surround the pair, preparing to fight to the death with spatulas.

Lee taps the mike to draw attention to her. It fails. "I'm sorry, there's just no bud-"

Mrs. Strickland grabs the mike back just seconds before the spatulas are about to crash. "Of course, we will honor all previous clubs! We will soon open a new round of submissions, because we are good hosts and our school will not get our school burned in mysterious circumstances, right?"

That one was directed at Brayden, who gives her a small nod. I think the power went to his head.

"But," says Lee, "the budget-"

"We will get there when we get there!" she yells, thankfully not at the microphone. She forces a smile before addressing the crowd. "Well, you all have your new curriculum, which hopefully is not too different from your original ones. Please, go to your first classes, and hope you have a wonderful stay at our institute."

As the auditorium gets depleted little by little, I feel Hayden's arm grab me by the waist, pulling me towards him. "Well, all's well that ends well, or something."

"You could look happier, baby," I tell him. "After all, we are finally together."

"your welcome, again," says Brayden, still fucking up basic grammar. "and we can make a new club and all. this is gonna go swimmingly."

I stare at the crowd for a second, when my eyes catch someone's stare. Three people to be exact, all huddled together and talking in whispers.

Aiden, with his stupid blue hair, Haiden, with his shaved head and weird unibrow, and Braiden, being Brayden, but cooler. All three of them look at me with a devilish smile that sends shivers down my spine.

I have a sinking feeling that everything is not, in fact, going to go swimmingly.

SEASON 2 - THE END

THE BOYS WILL BE BACK SOON...ISH