Summary: Alex is given an ultimatum by his headmaster: participate in an extracurricular activity, or face expulsion from school. It just so happens that the only club willing to accept him now is the drama club. Sometimes, Alex wondered if school was worth all the troubles he faced.

Disclaimer: Alex Rider does not belong to me.


Mr. Bray shuffled the files on his desk, his eyes landing on a specific student's.

Alex Rider.

Ever since two years ago when his uncle died, Alex had been "sick" more and more often. When he was at Brookland, it couldn't be denied that he was a star student, making up for late work in record times. He paid attention in class, and he didn't cause disturbances. But his absences were piling up like they'd gone out of style! Late days, early dismissals, and just plain absent! All together, Alex had the most absences in the history of the school- nay, the district! And the rumors that surrounded him...

Mr. Bray remembered when Alex was THE most popular kid in class. He was the star athlete, the perfect student, and a great friend to have. He only had one friend now, one Tom Harris to be exact. Now he was being called a druggie, though he showed no signs of using any. (Mr. Bray paid very close attention to the seminars the district demanded he attend.) He had mysterious scars and bruises. One teacher commented that he might be abused. That might have been true, only that Alex was emancipated as of last year, when his housekeeper died of unknown reasons. Yes, Alex was a troubling child.

The Board of Governors saw what everybody else saw. A student that was most likely involved in gangs and such, and they did not like it. Alex had quit the football club citing sickness and injury, so there was nothing to redeem him there either. The BoG would soon demand for his expulsion if Alex did not do something, something that benefited the school.

From his desk, he asked Ms. Bedfordshire to call Alex down to his office.


Alexander Rider was having a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.

It started at one in the morning when he literally stumbled into his superior, Alan Blunt, at the Royal and General. He had just finished a mission in Spain, and he was tired.He had a knife wound in his shoulder that was addressed on the field by himself, and while he may have basic field training from the SAS, he was no doctor. But Blunt, bastard that he was, took him to his office to give a thrice-damned report of all things! Didn't the man ever sleep? But no, apparently, Blunt and Jones, the terrible duo, were waiting for him to come back to give him a pat on the back and a message from the Prime Minister for doing such a good job. The PM invited him to lunch in the afternoon. Honestly? He just wanted a break!

It was a quarter past two when he finally made it to his flat, his old house having been sold for holding too many memories. Ben Daniels, flatmate and co-worker, had brought over his "SAS buddies" to hang out. They were roaring drunk, singing lewd songs when Alex had made it home. After Eagle kept talking to him like one would a baby, Alex finally punched him in the face and kicked him out. Snake, the medic, saw him flinch at the backlash after he threw the punch. He immediately sat him down and tied him to the chair so Alex wouldn't try to wiggle his way out. Then he took care of the knife wound- which Alex admitted Snake did a better job than he did- but still! He was drunk- what if he made a mistake?

Then he finally took a shower and went to bed at four.

He woke up at six to get ready for school. He called up Tom to let him know he was alive- what joy. Tom, as predicted, was glad to know he still lived because now he could kill Alex for waking him up so early. After calling out to Ben, he rode his bike to Brookland. Ben just grumbled. It was nice to be appreciated.

Now, he finally came to school for the first time in two weeks, and he was being called down to the office! What had he done wrong in his past life- was he Hitler or something? He didn't even do anything wrong this time!

Alex trudged his way to the Headmaster's office, nodding to Ms. Bedfordshire on the way. She gave a small smile and a wave in return. His stomach started giving flips, like he was walking into certain (for anybody else BUT him) doom. It was the same feeling he had whenever he walked into Blunt's office.

Alex gulped, and knocked on the door thrice.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

After a second that felt more like a millennium, a voice- Mr. Bray- called out, "Come in."

Putting on his game face, Alex entered.


Mr. Bray continued, "So, after careful considerations-" Yadda yadda yadda.

Alex ignored most of the "you have to come to school" spiel he was given every day he was back. It never changed anyways, and it wasn't like Alex wanted to go on missions. He didn't realize that he just jinxed himself.

"-in order for you to continue attending Brookland Comprehensive School, you must participate in an extracurricular activity. It's already too late in the year for you to join a club, though, so your best chance is to take part in the school play."

Wait- WHAT?

"I'm glad you understand, Alex. We've been worried about you, you know. Go see Mrs. Landry after school; try-outs are today and tomorrow. Have fun!"

Alex found himself outside the Headmaster's office with a dumbfounded look on his face. Ms. Bedfordshire looked at him all worried-like, so he just shook himself out of his stupor and went to the next class.


As soon as the lunch bell rang, Alex rode over to his flat as quickly as possible and changed into a suit. It was black, and completely typical of what you'd expect a Special Agent to wear. The only thing that marked it as unique was the blue lapel pin that proclaimed him to be a Chelsea fan.

"Looking sharp, Alex!" called out Fox, wolf-whistling.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work or something?" replied Alex irritably.

A black, snappy-looking James Bond kind of car waited for him at the door. He gave a nod to the driver and climbed in the automobile.

It was a quick drive to a fancy restaurant. The restaurant was swarmed with cops and suits. Didn't they hear of something called subtlety? Apparently not, as he had to suffer through several incredulous looks as he stepped out of the car. He was led by a waiter to a private room.

As soon as the door opened, a little girl skipped over to Alex. "We're supposed to be meeting an impotent person here. You don't look impotent."

I should bloody well hope not! Alex cried in his mind. Outwardly, a smile was pasted on his face.

"I think you mean important," said a pretty woman, trying to cover her chuckles.

"Hello, Alex!" called out the Prime Minister. "This is my family." He gestured to the girl and the woman.

The PM was, once again, trying to make him more open and friendly. Alex tried to reign in his temper and remain polite.

It was going to be a long lunch. Stupid double-lunches.


When Alex finally got back to school after dealing with annoying brats and bothersome bureaucrats, he was exhausted. Nonetheless, he had to keep up the facade of a good student so he diligently continued to take notes.

Then the bell rang once more, and school was over.

It was time to go see Mrs. Landry, the drama teacher.

It was a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day, and things could only get worse.