Ronnie's POV:

I lean against the wall of the school, pulling out my box of cigarettes and lighter. Andy hadn't been at school for three days and I am starting to worry. "Why isn't he back yet.." I wonder. I put my addiction to my lips, taking a deep breath inward. Smoking has been the only thing to keep me sane, to keep my fear and anxiety at ease. "You're going to be my friend today." I say aloud to my cigarette.

"Do you not have any friends?" I jump at the sound of a voice in front of me. I hadn't realized someone had walked up to me. "Uh.." My hand rubs the back of my neck as I try not to show my embarrassment for being so jumpy. But a light blush creeps onto my cheeks. "I do have one friend you could say. He just hasn't been here for a while."

I look the girl in front of me up and down. The top part of her hair is dyed black, the middle dyed purple, and the rest blue with small streaks of red and white here and there. It looks quite like a galaxy, actually. It covers part of her face, but from what I can see on the other side, is that she has big hazel eyes. She's quite short, about 5'1 and pale, but she's cute.

"So do you have a name?" I question. She rolls her eyes. "Well duh. It's Kaylee." I can tell she's trying to sound confident. She must be shy. "I'm Ronnie, Ronnie Radke." I hold out my hand for her to shake, but she doesn't move. "Oh come on," I pull her by he arm and yank her into a hug. "Don't be an antisocial bundle of hate."

She smiles, pushing me away. "Isn't that what you are? Considering the fact you're behind the school alone, talking to your cigarette?" I give her a fake glare "I have privileges, being the man I am!" She gasps, "Sexist fuck!" I laugh as she pushes my shoulder.

We hear the bell ring inside the school. "I think class is going to start." Kaylee shrugs and I smirk, walking away. "I'll see you around!" I shout as I go around to the front. Already, I don't want to be here. I put my headphones in as usual and turn the volume up as high as it can go as I walk to 1st period.

Andy's POV:

I lay in my bed, my face and stomach hurting. Even after three days of medicine, rest, and bandages, I still feel like shit. I try shifting onto my side, but the agony of moving even the slightest bit, hurts. "Fuuuck." I groan, draping my arm across my forehead. I close my eyes to block out the sunlight creeping into my room.

When I had come home on Monday, I was basically unconscious. Not quite, but almost. Though not enough for me to see myself in my bedroom mirror. I have to give credit to the asshole who beat the shit out of me. He left some nasty looking bruises.

My lip had a cut down it, on the right side. The skin on my cheek bone was swollen like hell, all purple, black, and blue. Pretty colors, but not a pretty look on my perfect face.

Yes, my perfect face. I don't consider myself ugly, and I indulge on my good features, because it is the only thing I can be selfish about and still be truthful.

"I should've given Ronnie my number that day.." I mutter to myself "Those damn pieces of shit just had to mess it up." My head starts to pound from being stuck in my stuffy room. I struggle to remove my sheets from my legs and sit up. "I have to go to school tomorrow." I say with determination.

With my mind focused on Ronnie, bad scenarios form in my head. "Will he think of me differently? Did he become friends with those jerks that hurt me..?" One bad thing about leaving me alone with my thoughts, is that I will overthink in the worst ways possible. At least it keeps me busy till I fall asleep again.