Pairing: Wenbie

Gravity Falls' pine-crested skyline had been blanketing Robert for almost two years now, and he had not sensed a hesitation or remote dwindle in the hatred that came with it. He was certain that in his many months at GFMS that not a single soul had given him much more than a shove and a hiss of "move it, emo faggot." in the dimly-lit hallways. He was almost 14 now, and had contemplated many times how to quickly kill himself before high school.

It was a dark path for a kid to be headed down, and the saddest thing that occurred to Robert was that by anyone else's standards, he had seen far darker. In Colorado he lived off of bread in the back of his mom's run-down van, and didn't keep friends for long between apartment-jumping and getting suspended for acting out. But he was with his mom, and he was happier than he could ever be, and at least he had friends for a while.

He didn't expect to get much out of the guitar that was bought for him for his 12th birthday, it was acoustic and the sound of it didn't always appeal to him-but he found that he could at least teach himself to play before he could beg his grandparents for an electric one, and practice never hurt. It was against a brick wall that he sat, every day, with a pick in his gloved hand and a focused expression on his face, and the residents of the middle school never batted an eyelash at the greasy black-haired teen.

There was a shaky shift in the chord progression and he pulled his knees inward. The chains and studs lining his shorts jingled and provided a clanky background noise to the tune he was playing, and he let out an unamused sigh. The ground below him was cold and deteriorated back into the earth as he sat limp on it. Days passed this way.

"FREEBIRD!"

He was immediately jolted back to reality when a voice from a few feet away shouted what he assumed was more mockery at him. The culprit was a horrifically tall girl with frizzy red hair pulled into a ponytail that barely tamed it at all, clothed in a loose flannel shirt that almost went down to her knees, which were festooned with scrapes and bruises. She was nothing particularly interesting, and his impulse was to tell her to fuck off.

"Fuck off," He told her.

To his surprise, she grinned with perfectly straight teeth and started taking quick, enthusiastic steps toward him, still speaking.

"Ha, sorry man, nothing personal, just teasin'." She sat down, having no qualms with totally invading his personal space. "For real though, I see you out here every day, you oughta set up a change bin, or something."

Robert boredly flipped his hair, hoping to get some shelter from the stranger trying to have a conversation with him.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"Who's there to talk to." It was a rhetorical question.

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"Unfortunately."

"Pfft, punkass. But seriously? No one's ever told you how rad your guitar skills are?"

He didn't have a response for her-he'd already made it perfectly clear that no one gave a shit about him and the mere act of her pretending to was making him all kinds of weirded out. He shrugged.

"What do you listen to?"

The boy looked at his hands and aimlessly started listing artists. "I dunno. Alternative? Emo, rock, you know... 30 Seconds to Mars, MCR, FOB... s-sometimes I like to listen to classic rock, too..."

"Dude," She said. "Beatles?"

"I mean, how could you not? Especially when you're stuck on acoustic..."

"So you can play me up some Harrison. Like, right now."

He squinted, looking up thoughtfully. "Harrison, not so much... uh... McCartney?"

"Wing it, Paulie."

He immediately melted into the first few chords of Yesterday, far too nervous to sing, but the girl held an amazed expression on her face, nonetheless. She hummed along, obviously too shy to sing herself, (so at least they had that in common.) In retrospect, he had no idea why he so easily warmed up to her-maybe music was the easiest way into his heart, or maybe it was her boundless charisma. But even when he'd mess up and his fingers would slip, even when he'd have to change frets and take little pauses to coordinate himself, she was lit up by what she'd referred to as his "talent."

"You're so awesome at that!" She beamed when he finished. "Man, how come we never talked before this?"

His face darkened slightly, and he broke eye contact. "I, uh... don't stand out too much."

"I've been here almost my entire life, there's no way I can't know you!"

"I moved here a couple years ago," He explained. "From... Denver..."

"There we go, that's why." She nodded. "Well, whatever, bro! We're totally friends now, will you be here tomorrow after lunch? Same place?"

He blinked. She certainly was persistent. "Uh. Yeah. That's... usually how it is."

"Rad!" The bell rang, and she whipped her ponytail around in whatever direction her next class was. "I'll be there! Hey, and I'll bring some of my friends!"

She started running back inside, and Robert stood there, completely flabbergasted at how sudden this supposed "friendship" had happened. He barely remembered what friends were, let alone how to make them.

The redhead stopped running, and quickly shouted back at him with her hands cupping her mouth. "I'm Wendy, by the way! Who the hell are you?"

"I, guh..." Why on earth am I so flustered? He thought before shouting back. "I'm Robert!"

"Sweet!" She waved, and ran back off, still looking in his direction. "See ya tomorrow, Robbie!"

'Robbie' stood there, oblivious to the time in passing he was wasting, heart beating like a jackhammer, pale face dyed beet red.