musicalBlink – Haha, I haven't found too many people that actually like GamKat, but it's one of favs so thank you. ^^

Mountain Dew Monster – Thanks! And John didn't take the time to learn their names, only knows them by their online handles. (First chapter, bottom of paragraph one)

Anon – Success! My readers will be doing ALL of the chuckling!

Moonfire8 – It's a miracle (see what I did there?) that my sense of humor emulates Hussie's in a way, cause otherwise, my jokes would be un-funny and not fit. I'll keep 'em coming too, so just sit and enjoy darling!


Dave: Sulk quietly.

He'd never gotten along with other kids in elementary school, especially after the incident where he punched a boy in the face for making fun of his pointed shades. They were a gift from his brother; Dave would defend them to the bitter end. After that, people generally stayed away from the blonde. Over time he guessed that he began to resent them and grew to enjoy his isolation. People were generally too clingy, or too demanding for the independent Strider child to handle. So with some smooth words and a cool gesture he pushed them away. The only reason he originally let Rose close to him was because of the blood ties they shared, but he eventually came to love the psychoanalyst. She was the exception.

Dave was reconsidering this though, as he sat and scowled at his desk. Rose was doing that thing again, that thing where she tried to have him play nice with other people. It simply wasn't going to happen. That boy and his baby blue eyes would be his downfall if he ever got close to him. The way he stumbled over his words when he spoke had Dave near swooning. Was it legal for someone to be so adorable? Well it shouldn't be, he thought. His eyes flicked over to the black haired boy for probably the sixth time within the past four minutes. He was diligently taking notes and jotting down the practice problems, chewing at his lower lip. Come to think of it, John almost looked like a little rabbit when he did that. Dave groaned, letting his cheek rest on the smooth desktop, willing away the thought of that derp with bunny ears and a fluffy tail.

This was stupid.

Everything was stupid.

He hated everything.

The angst was driving him mad. Pale fingers going almost white from the grip he had on his ballpoint pen, Dave started scribbling down some lyrics. Words flowed easily once he began tapping out the rhythm he wanted with his foot. Drawing himself back up, he added accent beats with his left hand as the right moved feverishly across the page. He was vaguely aware of the silent chatter around him but was too far gone to really notice it stopping.

"Strider."

Scratch that, scribble it out, he could find better words to put there later.

"Mr. Strider."

His little finger was tapping the rhythm he wanted for the high-hats, and it sounded pretty good if he did so himself. Dave was nearing the last line of his unrevised song when his notebook was forcefully pulled out from under him. The pen left a long streak across the page, continuing from the tail end of a 't' he was about to cross. He looked up with anger and frustration and a twinge of fear knocking around in his chest.

"Yes?" he asked, not willing to back down even if it meant getting himself a detention. This old dame had it out for him since he started going to this school so it wasn't as if Bro would really give a damn. He'd had her too; Bro had spent many a school day terrorizing the hag that stood before him now.

"Please, I realize that you don't care about your grades and have a lovely future as a drop out, but you could at least pretend to listen when I talk."

His jaw tightened along with vice on his pen. The plastic was cracking under the pads of his fingers and it hurt but it didn't matter as long as it kept him from clocking this lady in the jaw.

"Will do, Ms. Vance. Not a problem."

She held his gaze for a moment longer before giving him a curt nod, making her way back to the front of the class room with his notebook still in hand.

"You can get this after class, Mr. Strider."

All eyes were on him, and not in the way he'd always dreamed. His fingers flexed and curled around the edge of the desk as he tried to regain his cool. People didn't bother him. Neither did this lady with a stick so far up her ass it had no hope of ever coming out. He was fine.

Dave ignored how black and blue danced on the edge of his vision, searing metaphorical holes into his aviators for the rest of class.

Seventh period was over after what felt like years and Dave had snatched his notebook off the edge of Ms. Vance's desk with a crippling glare. The old woman remained unaffected. What the fuck ever.

He'd made it about halfway down the hall when he heard his name being called. Dave stopped where he was and looked over his shoulder. Lo and behold, the blue-eyed wonder was jogging after him, getting jostled by other students as he pushed towards him. A worn piece of notebook paper was clenched in his fist. From the distance Dave could barely make out black block-style letters and doodles framing the edge of the page. His heart dropped.

"Yeah?"

"You…gosh I hate running, crap…this, uh, fell out of your notebook," John said, panting softly as he approached his stoic classmate. When he noticed the slightly horrified look on Dave's face (he was getting good at noticing his slight facial expressions) he let out a bit of a squeak. "I didn't read it or anything, I swear! I just figured it was probably important to you and thought you'd want it back so I picked it up to give back and yeah…"

His sentence turned into nonsensical gibberish and John figured it was high time to stop talking. He clamped his mouth shut, leaving his hand outstretched so Dave could reclaim his writings.

The blonde looked from his face to the paper and back before carefully plucking it from his fingers. Skin brushed briefly and John wondered why his face was all warm, and why Dave's fingers were so calloused. Standing close to him he noticed the bandages wrapped around a few of his knuckles. Maybe it was from more strifes with his brother, like the cut on his cheek.

"You ramble a lot, Egbert. But thanks anyways."

"You know my name?" John asked, wide eyed and incredulous. He hadn't gotten the chance to tell him what his name was earlier that morning as far as he could remember. Dave just looked at him somewhat confused.

"Yeah, man. You're in six of my classes. I'd be the biggest asshole alive if I didn't remember your name under these circumstances."

John's face was about the same shade of red as the sleeves on the young Strider's shirt by now. "Oh."

"Yep. So thanks again for picking this up, I'd probably fly off the handle if I'd lost it," Dave said, looking down at the paper in his hands. As he continued, he didn't look like he was really aware of the fact he was still speaking. "I'd do a pirouette off the handle and win like a freaking Olympic medal for it. I'll be idolized for my ability in flying off handles. It'd be crazy."

Dave finished his prolonged metaphor, a vocal quirk he'd picked up from Bro many years ago, and stood silent in front of a shell-shocked Egbert. For a good fifteen seconds they just looked at each other. Then John couldn't even try to keep himself from looking stupid.

"Do you wanna hang out later?" he spluttered, tripping over the words as his fingers played with the edges of his t-shirt.

Dave was quiet and shook his head. "Can't. I got stuff to do tonight, busy as always."

For the second time that day, John had to watch one Dave Strider walk away from him after shooting down his attempts at friendship.

Dave: Be the dejected youth.

The only thing that would soothe his aching soul right now would be a movie marathon. John hiked his backpack higher on his shoulders and navigated through the streets to the little movie shop he'd discovered earlier that week. A chime above head alerted the staff to his arrival, and they greeted the familiar face with a smile and a wave. He forced a small smile, just to be polite, and started perusing the shelves. He'd picked up two or three DVDs when he came across a couple of kids about his age. A second glance proved them to be the boys he'd seen at lunch.

The shorter boy was holding a DVD case, rambling about what John assumed was the plotline of the movie, while his friend just smiled and nodded. John shifted his weight to try and see around them without being noticed but a pair of violet eyes caught his. The taller one straightened to his full height, one arm settling around his pal's shoulders.

"Hey there, motherfucker. Need us to move?" His voice was low and melodic, amiable but with an edge. John was more than a little unnerved at this boy's use of profanity.

"No, i-it's okay, really."

"Gamzee, who are you talking- FUCK, PUT ME DOWN!"

Gamzee, apparently, had wrapped his lanky arms around Shorty's waste, easily lifting him and moving him aside.

"Calm down, Karkles, this brother over here needs to see the movies," he said with another chuckle. Shorty's head whipped around to look at John.

"Who're you?" he bit out.

John swallowed anxiously. "John. John Egbert."

Shorty nodded. "I'm Karkat. This doofus," he jerked a thumb at his friend who just waved happily, "is Gamzee."

"Nice to meet you," John said, daring a few steps closer. Karkat looked over his arm at the stack of movies he held and grinned.

"You've got good taste."

Never before had anyone, not even his own father, complimented his taste in movies. John's heart soared at the comment.

"Really? Normally people think my movies suck…"

Gamzee, who had previously just been watching the two interact with a distracted smile, laughed. "Nobody has worse taste than Karkles. He all up and dragged me here to get a bunch of fucking romcoms."

Karkat flushed, smacking Gamzee in the chest. "Shut up, you dick! Anyways John, do you have a pesterChum?"

Oh gosh, he was making friends! John nodded excitedly. "It's ectoBiologist."

"Now you don't have to motherfucking take me to see every cliché chick flick with you," Gamzee cooed, resting his head on top of Karkat's as his arms circled the petite body once more. Karkat struggled in his hold for a second before relenting. He knew he wasn't as strong as Gamz. There wasn't any use in fighting. Meanwhile John just wondered idly if these two were a couple.

"Stop talking, Gamzee. Nobody wants to hear the shit that comes out of your mouth. Nobody." Gamzee made to argue this but Karkat cut him off. "We're leaving now. Bye, John."

"Bye, John!" Gamzee echoed in a song-song voice, earning a growl and a slap from Karkat.

John just stood there and smiled and thought about how cool it was that he had a friend now in his new home that would talk about amazing movies with him. He could pester Karkat about his relationship with Gamzee later, after he finished his mini-cinema marathon at home of course.


Oh, woe is me! After trying two different drafts of this chapter I decided this would have to do. Progress is being made.

WHERE MAKING THIS HAPEN.

Yeah. I went there.

Anyways, please keep up with the reviews! They're a great motivator and I do try to respond to them at the beginnings of chapters. Next chapter will probably be later than this one because school is starting up again soon, and just for those of you who care, I'm working on a GamKar oneshot right now. I wanna make it super long though so it's just this epic piece of literature so it may be a while.

Snuggles and cupcakes for all of you.

~Chickadee