Prologue
Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued
"Brothers and sisters, put this record down!"
Arthur jumped, startled at the voice that was most definitely not Patrick Stump. His hand hit the stereo that was quietly playing music, knocking it over. The younger boy, Alfred, chuckled and stopped the rolling music player with this foot.
"A-Alfred! What the hell are you doing here? You should be in class, we all know you need it," Arthur questioned, a scowl on his pale face.
Alfred clicked his tongue, pretending to pause and think about his answer. "Well, Artie, shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?"
The blue eyed American grinned down at Arthur, expecting a flustered response. However, he received the opposite. The Briton simply smirked at him, and waved a pass around.
"I have a pass actually. The teacher never showed up," he replied, amused at the other's disappointed face.
"Doesn't matter, what are you doing up here anyway?" Alfred asked, hastily changing the subject.
Arthur raised his significantly large eyebrows. How is it any of his business? It's not like he cared before... oh.
He sighed. "What do you need?"
Alfred always came to him when he needed something. Normally it would be some silly prank or help on a missed homework assignment.
He shifted his weight onto one foot, and stared down at Arthur. "I don't need anything. Well... yeah, no."
Alfred hesitated as if he were treading on bad grounds.
"You have to forgive me someday, Artie. We used to be so close! I didn't mean what I said in middle school and you know it—"
"Do I?"
He stood up after he collected his items and trudged down the hill towards the school grounds.
I should've known.
The brown haired boy was left waiting by the cork tree, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
"Damn it! You just don't listen!" he yelled at Arthur.
He sat down where his former best friend was, and dialed a number on his smartphone.
"Hey Francis? It's time for Plan B."