AN: Well, my first Breakfast club fic. I hope you all enjoy. It took me so long to get this up, stupid old computer... Sorry if i've mixed any words up, i don't live in the USA so i don't know what you call everything.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything shown in the movie or this fanfic. Though i wish i did...

Preface.

John had his fair share of near-death experiences; it s wasn't something he really every get used to. It was strange though, unavoidable, even. Like he was destined for death. Was he marked for disaster? In just over sixteen years he had escaped death countless times. Dodging it at ever turn, at every stop.

But this wasn't the same.

He could run from someone he feared, he could fight someone he hated. But all those reaction were trained toward monsters and enemies - like his father.

When the one you loved was the one who was the target of the danger, it left you no options. How could he run, how could he fight, when doing so hurt them. If your life was all you had to give, how could you not?

If it was all you could do to save that loved one, why wouldn't you?

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In the band

Tommy is my best friend. We are closer then brother's. They call us twins at school, not because we look the same; no we are nothing alike. I have chocolate brown hair, my mums colour, but I am a mirror image of my father. I'm shorter then Tommy, slimmer too. He has fiery red hair, ocean blue eyes and freckles litter his face. our skin is tanned, but it happens when you speed countless hours out in the blazing sun, and only for a few bucks.

Everyone calls us 'The twins' because we are inseparable. We've been friends since we where two years old. We had stayed friends too.

His mum had dropped us off on our first day of kindergarten. My mum and dad had to go to work earlier then normal, so they could get the money together for my unborn brother, while his mother was a house wife. We were both wildly nervous, but uncontrollable curious as to what would happen. We had held hands, afraid that one of these screaming unpredictable children would swipe the other one up if we let go. My Dad was mad when he found out I was holding Tommy's hand, he had hit me right across the face and yelled down at me "I'm not having any fag s in this family, you hear me boy?" I came to school with a bruise and didn't touch Tommy. I told the teacher I fell.

The second day wasn't as bad though, we made friends with some boys named Jackie and Ethan, who gave us the name 'The twins' by asking if we where.

We stayed friends all the way through kindergarten and elementary too. We both went on to Shermer middle school. We were both quiet the first day of year six, but soon settled in.

We are half way through eight grade now, and both planning to stay friends for ever.

It s home time down but we're checking out the notices bored in the hall, it's about after school club's.

"Come on John, it s bad enough we even have to come to school!" I ignore him and roll my eyes, making sure he see's. He scruffs and crosses his arms, waiting impatiently. Then it catches my eye. A poster with a nasty yellow background. It has the words 'In the band' writing in big, bold red letter and the quotation-marks are the devils pitchfork. I can t help feeling wishful. Ever since I was little I had wanted to be a rock star. When I was home alone, I would put the TV on as loud as I could without hurting my ears, grab the old broom, jump on the coffee table and pretend I was famous.

I would strum the broom, like it was a guitar, bang my head and imagine that I had thousand of fan's yelling my name, screaming and begging for more. I hadn't done it since I was seven though. My dad walked in, I couldn't hear him because the TV was blasting away. I didn't know until he snatched the broom from my hands and smashed it across the back of my head, the broom had smashed in to a million tiny, little pieces. He then throw me on the floor and gave me a hard and swift kick to the ribs. Then I had to clean the mess up. Needless to say, I never did it again.

It was mad really. I'm not special, hell, I don t even know how to play the guitar. (Even though I desperately wanted to) Nobody around where I live gets to do anything glamorous or famous. Most sit on their asses and smock pot all day.

"Come on, John" He says in a voice which is a half whine, half demand. When he releases what s caught my attended, he leans over my shoulder to get a better look. We both know Tommy has bad eyesight, but he refuses to get glasses. He told me that he didn't want to be associated with any dorks. When his face turns sour, I can t help but feel disappointed. "You re not interested in that, right?"

"Don't be stupid. I m just seeing what crap these pathetic excuses of teacher have put up."

"Good. Honestly though, who ever joins something like that has got to be a total fag." Tommy laughs cruelly at his own joke. I simple nod and fake a grin. But Tommy notices, he has always been good at reading me. "Oh." He's at a lost for words." You do wanna join. Don t you?"

"Yeah...I mean, you are right. Most guys look like total fag's 'specially if they don t pull it off right. But it s us, we can make it a lot more then cool, man." It is not true, I don t think they look like fag s. I only say it to save face for both of us.

"How about a deal? I go to that thing with you, if you join the fun run team with me." A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. He knows I hate running. Smokes ruined my lungs; Tommy s never had a cigarette in his whole fourteen years. It was my own fault really; I started when I was eleven, when my old man gave me cigarettes for my birthday. I didn't have to smoke them.

I debate it, If we got the part in 'In the band' then he'd have no choice but to perform with me, but I could stay in 'Fun run' only have to take part in training. It would be good for me, good way to keep fit and also to run from my dad.

I grin at him and could tell he wasn't expecting it. "Deal."

"You re kidding, right?"

"I don t kid." I joke and he smiles, after all, he knows me better then anyone. I blindly fumble through the contents of my bag and pull out a red felt tip pen that I stole from English. I smile as I write both are names down in my bold and slanted writing. "Come on, lets get out of this dump". I say, tugging at his elbow.

We walk in silence for a while, just enough time to reach the outskirts of down town before Tommy starts sniggering. I glance over and he stops. I look away and he begins again.

"What!?" I snap.

"I'm just picturing you in tight leather trouser!" I can t help but blush, I don t get why they wore them for, they were so stupid. I don t mine him poking fun at it. But then he says "God! You would look like a right fag!"

"You are an ass sometimes!" I snap, I didn't mean to. But I'm getting self-consuse enough with my dad saying it, let alone my best friend.

Tommy frowned, obviously disliking my tone and choice of words. "god Johnny. Don't get in such a state."

I ignore the last part and hiss. "Don t call me that! You know I hate that."

"You need to lighten up". I couldn't see his face experience, but I didn't want to.

"And you need to grow up."

"Who wants to grow up?" He cries.

And we are in the middle of the road,

we don't even release it.

But then there's a horn blaring.

Tires screeching.

A squeal of breaks.

Then our world goes blank...

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AN: I hoped you enjoyed it. Please tell me what you think. :D If you not understand what this chapter is about then don't worry, it will be cleared up in the next chapter.