A.N. Haven't uploaded in a while, sorry. And thanks to all those who read my and SheLikesRockN'Roll's versions of this fic.

Chapter 3: A Jailbreak and Coke

Has anyone ever told you how much school's like a jail? I mean, you sit around all day, listening to people demanding respect that they didn't rightfully earn. People telling you there's only one way you could live—and that's their way, of course. People trying to show you where to stand, usually beneath them. And, like a jail, your only objective is to get the hell out of there.

But you know how school differs from jail? You know how, in jail, you commit a crime and then you're punished? Well, in school, you get punished and tortured to unspeakable levels and only after you're fed up with all that crap you commit a crime.

So I'm just gonna say that I've been pushed around to the point that I'm one step from being suicidal to homicidal.

Down the hall, I could still hear Axl and Duff laughing their asses off. I just don't get it. They've pushed me into lockers one too many times for it to still be entertaining. Although it could be the fact that this time my head left a massive dent on the metal. Yeah, could be.

It was lunchtime, another thing that sets jail apart from school. Jail most likely serves much more nutritious food than the crap they try to pass off as 'edible'.

The cafeteria doesn't seem very hygienic either, I prefer eating outdoors and bringing my own lunch. I only go inside that germ infested crack house to get some Diet Coke from the vending machine. I love me some Diet Coke enough to risk my sanity to get one.

Unfortunately the vending machine happened to be only a table away from Steven and Axl's so I had to risk an extra beating. Oh fucking well, anything for my Coke.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed an extra blondie, the new kid, Jasmine. Well, it was to be expected anyway, punks are drawn to their kind. It looks like they were getting along quite nicely, good. I wouldn't hesitate to threaten another girl. Boys, however, I'm a little uneasy.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop but, c'mon, they talk really loudly... "Innocent?" I heard Steven exclaim, "Trust me, she's anything but" Aw, how sweet. They were talking about me.

"Are you related?" Jasmine asked curiously.

"She's my twin sister."

She looked surprised at that. Well, couldn't blame her. We looked nothing alike; he was bubbly and had curly blonde hair whereas I'm almost always completely silent and had long, pitch black hair.

"And you're letting these guys beat her?" An excellent point, but what else would they be capable of doing in their free time? Knit?

"Bros before hoes" Coke before Pepsi.

"Isn't that for relationships?" And soda.

"Well... whatever. These guys are more important to me than Sophia will ever be so I don't really care about what happens to her." Although I will never openly admit it, what he said just then kinda, sorta, broke my heart a little. He was my brother, goddammit. He may as well act like one once and a while.

"Besides," he continued, "she has Izzy"

CRAP. IZZY. I ran as fast as I could to the nurse's office, remembering my best friend whom I accidentally left alone in a dumpster full of thugs earlier that day.

"'surgent?" I blurted out, breathless from running from the other side of the school.

"Slow down, dear." McNulty, the school nurse who looked like the idea that the sixties were twenty years ago had not occurred to her, said calmly in her sing-song voice.

"WHERE THE HELL IS IZZY?" I spat, frustrated, forgetting my manners.

"He left five minutes ago, dear." She replied as calm as she was before.

"CRAP" I stormed out the nurse's office to find my friend, whom I happened to bump into right outside the school gardens, "Sweet Jesus, where the hell were you? I was worried sick!" I screamed at Izzy's face.

He looked bemused at my exasperation, "Calm down, dude. You're the one who left me alone in the lot."

"Big, scary thugs dragged you off. What the fuck was I supposed to do?" I blurted, catching myself afterwards, "I'm sorry. I panicked, how's your wrist?" I murmured, noticing the cast.

"It'll be better in a couple o' days, I guess." He smiled, the kind of smile that reassures you everything's gonna be okay. The kind of smile liars have.

"What about your guitar?" I asked, seeing right through him.

He fidgeted for a moment before replying, "I prob'ly could still play when I get this cast off—"

"But not as good as you used to?" I finished for him.

"Right." He was disappointed, like he let the whole world down.

"Aw, screw that. You're one of the best musicians and singers I've ever heard and even if you weren't, you'd still be the best friends I'd ever have." I smiled, he smiled. The whole world was perfect for a moment—but he had to go all pessimist and ruin it.

"You're right about the friend bit, I guess." He guesses? What the hell is that supposed to mean? "But for the singing and guitar-ing bit, I'm not as good as Axl and Slash and I don't think I'd ever will be."

"Look at it this way, you're not as useless as Duff."

"Doesn't he play bass?"

"Your point? He does little else."

He laughed in agreement.

"Besides, I for one think Axl screeches too much for my liking and Slash reminds me of a hobo."

"True," he chuckled a bit. "Oh wait, I forgot to give you something." He fished around his pockets, drawing out a small box.

"Is that what I think it is?" My eyes widened an my pulse started to quicken.

"Is it?" He smirked as he opened it. Tickets to the midnight showing of Rocky Horror this Saturday.

"Oh my God, it is, it is!" I flung myself on him, pulling him into a big hug, "Oh and you're going as Riff-Raff."

"We're wearing costumes?"

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do at Rocky Horror? Besides you already look like him so it wouldn't be much effort on your part."

He considered it for a bit before muttering a quick 'fine' and hugging me back. Everything was perfect in the world again.

If school was a jail, then this must be my great escape.