School Shenanigans-ch2
An invite
"Oh my gosh! I can't believe it! After so many years of crushing he finally noticed me!" Waylon gushed as he twirled around, love in his eyes.
"Hm, I don't know Waylon. This is just a history project after all. He'll probably have you do all the work, then dispose of you like an empty cigarette." Selma said.
Waylon didn't have many friends but he was friends with Selma. She was also queer. They both would usually hang out in the back of the school during lunchtime. Selma would usually smoke with her sister Patty, but they were having a bit of a feud today so she came with Waylon.
"But Selma! Think about it; we can get to know each other, start talking, become friends then maybe? RIght?"
"You're hopeless," Selma said as she took another puff of her cigarette.
Smithers coughed upon coming in contact with the smoke. "Says the person who won't stop smoking."
"Hey you already got second-hand smoke, why not try out the real thing?"
"Eh, no thanks Selma"
Then after school, Waylon rode to the well-known 'Burns Manor'. He had his backpack full of supplies for the project and a pathetic smile plastered across his face.
He came to the front door and got off his bike. He stood in front of the gloomy towering black gates of the manor, looking for a doorbell.
"Who are you?" a stern voice broke out from a speaker right next to the gate. It was the butler.
"U-uhm, I'm Waylon Smithers, Monty's friend from school," Waylon replied nervously looking at the camera directly above the speaker.
"Why are you here?"
"We have to do the school project together."
"Hm, yes he did mention of you. Very well, come in and I'll meet you at the front door."
The gates opened up. Waylon came in and put his bike to the side. He then nimbly crossed the long driveway, climbed up the stairs, and stood at the front door.
The door opened to reveal the butler. He was tall with dark brown hair and a sunken face. He wore a suit and styled his hair back with gel.
"Welcome, Mr. Smithers. I'll lead you to his room." the butler said
Waylon was a bit surprised at first to hear Mr. Smithers. His father was called that and it felt quite odd but he still followed the butler in.
Side note: I know Mr. Burns was the one who made the Burns Manor but in this AU Colonel Burns did
The Manor's main hallway looked extravagant! On the floor, lay a thick wine red color carpet made of handpicked wool. Pillars stretched like towers from the ground to the ceiling, arcs stretching from pillar to pillar. The ceiling had small intricate floral patterns and fluorescent yellow lights shining upon the whole place. The doors to the side looked tall and menacing, made of dark oak, with golden handles(I wouldn't be surprised if it was real gold). The walls were a dull, yet calming green color.
Throughout the walls were expensive decor potted plants upon full marble stands, and art pieces worthy of being shown in museums. There were also, portraits of an old-looking man with a pointy nose, white goatee, wearing an ivory-colored suit and a matching low top hat. He looked like Monty but a lot older and meaner. Underneath the portrait was a label
Colonel Wainwright Burns
"Hm, I wonder who that is." Waylon thought.
The servant and guest walked up the grand staircase and to the west residential wing, then came up to Monty's bedroom. The butler knocked on the door.
"Sir, Mr. Smithers is here to see you."
"What?" they heard Monty's voice as he opened the door. He then noticed Waylon, "Oh yeah, it's you. Come in."
The unnamed butler went back and Waylon entered Monty's room. This room also looked just as lavish. There was a canopy bed back against the wall, a dresser in the far corner, a heavy dark oak bookcase collecting dust in the other corner, a balcony connecting to the room. A record player sat on the bedside table, maybe he liked listening to music, who knows.
"Nice place you've got here Monty,'' Waylon said as he admired the room.
"Yeah sure, just get this project done and don't disturb me," Monty replied gruffly and sat back in his bed, put on headphones connecting to his record player and reading a book. Waylon studied him for a minute. He seemed to be reading The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Waylon smiled. Monty also had a rebellious soul. Always getting into trouble and bending the rules.
Even though Monty bribed the teachers for good grades, he seemed to be intelligent and clever. Maybe he could run a business one day and become filthy rich, though he was already filthy rich. Maybe all his family members were huge business moguls.
Then Monty looked back up at Waylon.
"What are you gawking at? Get back to work!"
Geez, he even seemed to order everyone around like a boss.
Waylon immediately sat on the floor and pulled out his supplies. After a minute the teen said;
"Aren't you going to help me?"
"Why should I? You said you'd do all the work yourself."
"Well, maybe I won't," Waylon replied with a sudden burst of confidence.
"I-I-Fine," Monty said defeated. He'd usually prove others wrong, but today he was tired so he wasn't in the mood to argue.
Monty took out his headphones and turned off the music player. He then sat next to Waylon.
"So, what will we be doing?"
"Uhh, I-I thought we could kinda introduce ourselves to e-each other f-first." Waylon stammered, not expecting Monty to actually help him.
"Are you always this nosy?" Monty said, his hands on his waist.
Waylon took a deep breath to calm himself. Then after a moment, he started;
"Well, my name is Waylon Smithers. I, uh, go to the same school as you but you never even noticed my existence." Waylon said awkwardly. That sentence sounded better in his head.
"Oh, I thought your name was Wallace." Monty smiled, a charming smile. Though, it came as soon as it was gone."Well, uh. You obviously must know me, I'm 'Charles Montgomery Burns, heir and grandchild of the powerful Wainwright Colonel Burns' Nothing much." Monty replied more cheerfully, making jazz hands when saying his grandfather's name.
"Is that the guy in the portrait downstairs?"
"Yeah, he's so full of himself. He made an atom mill or something."
"Well, what about your father."
"Oh, I left him."
"Oh, he left you, I'm so sorry!"
"No, no. I left him. My grandfather came to me promising me material wealth in exchange that I listen to him. I don't know, he wants me to inherit his fortune I suppose."
"Oh."
"Well, what about your father?"
"Oh, my father. Well, he's a professor at the local community college teach-"
"Alright, alright. That's enough introduction, just get this done so I won't have to see your square bespectacled face for any longer."
"What? You want me to take 'em off?" Waylon said in a smug, almost flirtatious way as his eyelids lowered and he leaned in closer to Monty.
Hey? Where did that sudden burst of confidence come from?
You think you're such a hotshot now eh? You ruined it all, you buffoon!
Voices sprouted from the bespectacled teen's head.
"I suppose. I always wanted to know what it was like looking through a pair of prescription glasses."
Monty nonchalantly, grabbed the glasses from their bridge, his fingers brushing against Waylon's nose. Waylon slightly blushed.
Monty got up, wore them, and looked around his bedroom. Everything looked warped and blurry. Waylon also got up, stretching his arms out slightly to find Monty. Waylon was as blind as a bat without his paid-for-vision.
"Oh! How bad is your vision?"
"Hey! Give them back!"
A mischievous grin sprouted on Monty's face. He took the glasses off.
"You mean these?" Monty teased.
"Yes! Give them back, please." Waylon pleaded.
"No, I don't think I will."
Monty jumped around as Waylon went after him trying to get his glasses back. Monty started laughing. Waylon secretly thought it was cute, but he was as helpless as a newborn without his glasses, and people have played this joke on him a dozen times before, it usually ended with his spectacles breaking.
As Monty kept walking backward, he eventually lost balance and nearly tripped, but grabbed onto Waylon's collar with his free hand. Waylon grabbed Monty's waist with both his hands.
After a moment of silence between the two, Monty straightened up and put Waylon's glasses on his face. Waylon was still holding onto Monty. They both stared at each other a second longer, blushing. Their faces were only inches apart. The situation started to feel like a cliche romance story.
Were they about to kiss?
They quickly pulled away from each other, laughing awkwardly.
"Just complete the project and get out," Monty said
"Yes Sir," Waylon replied.
Waylon only got enough time to complete half the project that day. Monty still accompanied Waylon to the gate, his bike parked nearby. Waylon mounted on his bike and the gates started to open.
"Uhh, Wilson," Monty spoke.
"It's Waylon."
"I don't care what your name is Watson!" Monty snapped as he gabbed his finger at the other's chest
"It isn't Wat- Whatever, what is it?" Waylon aksed a bit disappointed at how insensitive Monty could be.
"Just don't mention anything that happened today to anyone else okay?" Monty said, his voice going quiet again.
"I-I won't Monty," Waylon replied disappointed.
Monty then went back and Waylon cycled out and onto the pathway, cycling home, accompanied by a beautiful sunset, he didn't bother noticing.
Their first get-to-together, you could call it, had gone out more awkward than average.
"If only I didn't suggest the idea. "What? You want me to take 'em off?" Seriously Waylon! He probably thinks I'm some gay freak now!" Waylon thought as a small tear trickled down his cheek and he continued cycling faster.
Notes: Thanks for reading!
