Chapter 2 – New School, New Shoes

My dream was going so good. I was frolicking through dead flowers, dressed in black gothic style, even though I never did dress gothic, I was happy in my nightmare. Then my dream had to die because my mother had to be so cruel and wake me up on my first day at a new school. As the sun comes filling in my bedroom, I felt like burning into flames and into gooey liquid . . . at least that's what it felt like anyway.

I force myself out of bed, feeling like a damn zombie, somebody please shoot me! I get my ass into the bathroom, dunk my head into the sink, but accidentally hitting my head on the faucet and no water in sink, I plug it up, then fill it up and then I dip my head in the-

"HOLY SHIT THAT'S HOT!" I forgot to put on the cold tap.

X

Soon as I had my clothes on; socks, underwear, pants, shirt, and jacket I was set. I grabbed my backpack, lunch in all, and out the door I was. Oh, I forgot that I was going to school on the outskirts of town, it was a small private school, and at least I was more comfortable there than the old school I was at. I was surprised at first that I heard Kai used to go to the old school I was at, and he quit as soon as he got signed. Honestly, if I was going to hate this school as I did the other, I was quitting and going to start my music career on my own, but I didn't jump the gun right away, I just went with the flow and went to see how this school was like.

So walking through the doors, I felt a much more different feeling to it. It wasn't hostility, it was warmth, welcoming, and comforting like a five star hotel. Hell even the teachers were nice and charming! I was pretty nerve wrecked when I went into the gym of a hundred some students. I let a few go in ahead of me; some of them looked at me with that look you give to a new strange student. I felt a bit awkward, the looks were welcoming, but of course every school has a bored look.

I met this kid named Austin, he was an Ok guy. I could tell later on when I would get to know him better; he loved old aged comical characters like Batman, Spiderman and even horror movie icons like Chucky from "Child's Play," also he has a bit of stage fright, a big fear of spiders, and is one hell of an artist at drawing! He had a short but long black hair, and dark brown eyes, sort of reminding me of my Goth days. Although he wasn't Goth, but his black hair reminded me of it. He was at least a year younger than me. Both of us sat all the way at the back of the bleachers in the corners, and we slowly got to talking. At first he didn't talk much, but when it was our first class, we slowly gotten to know each other.

Once we gotten to our first class, we went to our homeroom classes (back at the old school, we never had a home room), our homeroom teacher supplied us all with our books for each class with the paper, pens and pencils, a calculator each for Math class, and to spiral notebooks. Right away I figured that this new school had a balanced economic and financial system, the other one didn't; we used to fundraise for the money, but the money secretly went into the pockets of the teachers and the principal. After that one incident, students never volunteered again.

First period; we were already in the gym that morning, getting briefed and then sent to our homerooms. Break time came; I went to my locker, didn't get assigned one, we got to choose our lockers, so I chose one the closest to our homeroom and put my stuff in there then off to break I was to the cafeteria. On my way, I saw that kids were all hanging out in the computer lab, and wondered "Wow, they actually have it open on break!" so I changed a plan and hung out in the computer lab and searched the web until the bell rang. Second period; we were said to have English class next, so once we went, it was also a briefing about what we were going to all learn in the terms for the year, and luckily for me writing was on there. Third period; only a quick five minute break, then next we had was history. Our history teacher was also our computer teacher, so his office was the computer lab. Then by the time lunch came, I went to go get my lunch bag out of the locker, walk passed the computer lab, and I see a few kids in there with their lunches. I think right away; back at the other school I came from, the teachers would freak and throw you out the room and suspend you.

I asked my computer teacher, "So you trust people in here with having their lunch hours in here?"

He turned to me and said; "Well, if you can't have your lunch here and work at the same time when at home you eat and work, then the same feeling should be held over here." He said, "Honestly, I don't know why other schools freak out about having your lunch in the computer room. You can eat it and drink it, but as long as you don't spill anything on the keyboard."

I couldn't believe it at first. I mean, I wasn't offended or anything, but I was like "Cool!" he does have a point there. You want to feel comfortable at your work space, and if you take good care of your computer at home and be carefull not to spill anything, then you could do as you wish in your work space. People do eat and drink at the computer; at home, in office cubicles, and even the staff rooms!

I remember this one time when I tried to get refuge in the computer room during lunch when I was still going to the other school, I got kicked out, suspended, and wasn't allowed back in the computer room for a month. And when I looked in the computer room that time, the teacher was munching away at her big microwave meal and big sweaty drink. I mean, what the hell was that!?

So by the time lunch was over, I hear a big voice in the air. I wonder to myself; "Am I dead?" then I remembered, "Oh, that's the intercom." Because back at the old school, they never used the intercom, and it was exhausting to run back and forth from one end to the other giving a message to a teacher who wouldn't take a damn important message. So on the intercom, the principal announced for all students out on the soccer field. We were going to play a huge came of capture the flag; High School vs. Elementary.

I was in the middle of protecting the flag when this little kid came sneaking up on me, and luckily for me, a High School boy comes to my aid! He was full of charisma when in game; he had big red hair, and had something like a bandana head band with the horoscope of Pegasus imprinted on it, also a Band-Aid on the bridge of his nose. "Woah!" he yelped, tagging the little kid before he could run away with the flag, "Gotta be careful with these little guys!"

I looked at him. "They're fast like hell!" I said, almost out of breath from running and tagging little kids.

"Looks like you need help."

"I sure do!" I said, trying to fend off evil little fourth-graders.

"I'm gonna rip your ass to shreds!" said this one little kid, pointing at me like he was from the Children of the Corn.

I look at my red headed partner, "Holy shit these kids sure have mouths!"

He smiles back, "I know, right, and the teachers say we're evil."

"I'm Kyoya, by the way." I say.

"Ginga, Ginga Hagane."

"Kyoya Tategami." I look at Ginga, "So your last name means steel in Japanese, like the metal?" I ask out of curiosity.

"Yeah," he says, "Just my last name."

X

Once after the whole Capture the Flag game was finished, it was 3: 00PM on the dot when the buses arrived. Once I got on the third bus, I realized I had gotten on the wrong bus. "Great!" I thought, "First day of school and already I get on the wrong bus."

The whole bus was jam packed, I couldn't get off because there were so many kids flooding in that I was being pushed back down in my seat, and just when I tried to get up, Ginga gets thrown in the seat with me.

"Agh!" he yelps, both of us hitting our heads from the rough line of kids.

"Sorry," I say, "crazy seeing you here."

"Yeah," he says, "So you live around where I live? Garden River?"

I look at him, holding my red backpack in my lap like cradling a baby. "I think so," I say, then I remembered the street that I loved on, "Wait, does this bus also pass by Butternut Road?"

Ginga smiles, "It sure does," he chuckles, "In fact; you must be the one that just moved beside my place, right?"

"Yeah."

"Where'd ya move from before?"

"Just in town; we moved out the house because of noisy neighbors, plus the old school I was at was suddenly like corrupted."

"Corrupted?" Ginga looks at me curiously.

"For example; I fundraise for the school's end-of-the-year trip, making about two thousand with the whole school, and where do we go? We go to a fishing pier to go to swim in slimy smelly water."

"What?" he said in surprise, "Why is that?"

"Most of it is going to the principal's pocket, or the rent that they must be paying in the big ass building they share with only one small wing/unit."

"So the whole school shares with another school?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I say, "for one thing; I think that building must have been a prison before." I joked around, and now that I think about it, the whole inside of the old school did resemble a prison; white bricked walls, metal doors with shatterproof glass, and one long corridor that really resembled a prison's corridor.

"Really?"

"Maybe," I chuckle, "But going to school here is like . . . I dunno . . . like changing a video game from a scary ass videogame to a funny ass videogame."

"Ok, like how different is it?"

I go back in my mind, but hell, why go back into my mind, that was only a few months ago! "Well, when someone announces something on the intercom here its like; Pardon the interruption or Good morning, staff and students, blah, blah, blah or Can I have everyone's attention. And over there, it's like; Votre attention silt vous plait and it's that same damn thing over and over again that it was making my head explode!"

"Woah, so you were at a French school?"

"Sort of, but like I said; it was an English school sharing a unit." I said, "Anyway, the teachers over here, they seem nicer and more cooperative. Over there; they're evil, constantly bitch at you for no reason, bitch at you if you don't get the question and, don't get me wrong over this, they freak out and throw you out and suspend you if you decide to bring your lunch in the computer lab for lunch hour, and yet they say You could hang out up here if you don't want to have lunch downstairs."

Ginga almost choked on his water bottle when he heard me say that, "WHAT?!" he gasped, "That's crazy! What if there are some kids who are uncomfortable around big crowds or are getting bullied?"

"I know, one time when I was twelve; I brought my lunch in on my first day, I get thrown out, and I didn't want to eat lunch downstairs for a month because kids would constantly pick on me because of the way I dressed; calling me 'Emo' and all kinds of other things."

"So you were also bullied?"

"Yeah," I say, "by this kid named Christophe."

"That sucks."

"Totally," looking back and forth from the window and back at Ginga, "one time I was so sick of eating in the café downstairs, my art teacher, the only one very different from all the rest of the faculty, she started giving guitar lessons for anyone who was interested."

"Cool! So you play?" he asks very excitedly.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm even trying to write a song, but I don't think it's going good though."

"Not unless another person says so."

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't you sing it to me?" he asks, "I'll give you some good feedback."

I wasn't too sure about singing in the first place, considering I'm just getting to know this kid, but what the hell, right? "Ok, but I only got the chorus down so far."

"Alright, sing away." He said.

I began to think of what I had so far, and so I sang anyway;

"In The End, As We Fade Into The Night.

Who Will Tell The Story Of Your Life?

And Who Will Remember Your Last Goodbye?

'Cause It's The End, I'm Not Afraid,

I'm Not Afraid To Die."

Ginga looked at me with an amused face, "You wrote that?" he asked me. His voice sounding entertained.

"Yeah," I said, "But that's all-"

"All you got, right." He said with a pleasant smile, "I know you are going to finish it and, never know, it might be a hit."

"Or, it might not turn out exactly as planned!" I protest.

"Don't be silly, Kyoya, it's going to be a great song."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, for sure." He said nudging my shoulder, "and besides, I could help you write it, I also write a bit."

"Really?" I look at him, "Do you also play?"

Ginga smiled, "I sure do!" he said cheery, "I've been playing for five years now."

"Wow!" I said, "I've been playing for a year now, just basic chords and some bar chords."

"Great!"

X

Once I got off of the bus, Ginga got off with me, and I realized he was the kid that lived two houses down the street from my place.

"So I'll see you around, I dunno . . . few minutes?" he asked.

"Sure!" I say, looking at how late it was going.

"Ok, I'll bring my guitar over." He said as he ran down to his house and disappeared in the front door.

I walk in the door; "Mom! I'm home!"

"Oh, hi honey!" she says. Oh great! She's not freaking out! "How was your day?"

"It was cool, met a friend, then got on the wrong bus and now I'm home." I say, "Where's dad?" I asked.

"I think he's still tied up at work." She says, cooking a nice warm spaghetti meal. "Who's your new friend?"

"His name is Ginga Hagane, he lives a few feet from here." I chuckle. Walking into my room putting my backpack away, "He'll be coming over in a few minutes with his guitar, is that alright?"

"Yeah, it's alright with me!" she yells from the kitchen over the loud stove fan.

X

Ginga came through the door not too long ago now, had supper with us, and then retreated to my room with our guitars. My guitar was a black and white electric fender like Kai Hiwatari's, and I had an acoustic that was all black with a black pick-guard. Ginga's was a red and white Gibson electric guitar. He said he had another electric and an acoustic like mine but was naturel brown.

"You tried getting on the BBA before?" I asked him surprised.

"Yeah, but the first audition my voice cracked when I hit a high note in Aero Smith's 'Sing For The Moment' during a solo, so I failed."

"I know right?" I say, "I couldn't even try singing one of those notes."

We were working together on writing a song, and this song went;

"We Scream! We Shout! We Are The Fallen Angels!"

The song was obviously going to be entitled "Fallen Angels" and we managed to get a first verse and the chorus down. Then the later a few verses down too, and most of which would need a bit of rewriting in the process once we played it back and forth. At first, we played it as a slow song, but Ginga thought of having it as a fast tempo song, and it stuck that way as a fast tempo song from then on.

Unfortunately, from this point on would be the worst moment in my life and my mom's too. The doorbell rings, my mom answers it. I turn on my serious face for a second, and I listen to who it was. I didn't recognize the voice she was talking to, I thought it was dad at first, and so did she when the bell rang, but then I hear her say "What?"

Me and Ginga get up from the bed, walk into the kitchen area, and see mom talking to a police officer. "Mom, is everything alright?" I ask.

She turns around, eyes wet with tears; "Dad's dead!" she cried.

My heart suddenly felt as though something reached it out and squeezed the life out of it. I drop to my knees in disbelief.

X

Ginga told his parents he was going to spend the night with me, since it was Friday night, he decided to come with me and my mother for moral support. That night, dad was said to have been driving home when a police chase ended when the cat they were chasing knocked my dad's car off a bridge and he got trapped and drowned. Rescue workers finally pulled his car out of the water around three in the morning. They managed to pull his body out before 9: 00pm before the officer knocked on our door and identified him.

Me and Mom went in the morgue and the mortician wanted to make sure it was him. Sure enough, it was my dad. We went back out, Ginga waited for us in the halls. He didn't want to leave us because he told us before getting in the car; "I ain't leaving, I don't want to sit at home and worry about you two all night, I'm going with you."

My mom didn't mind him coming along, her friend Trudy was there when she told me to call her and tell her. Trudy showed up with her husband Michael; I wasn't too sure about their last names were, but I couldn't care. I was freaking out and I was still in disbelief.

"What a way for me to meet your father, dude." Ginga said depressingly.

I held my head up at the dark humor. "Yeah, some way it is, huh?" I sobbed. The feelings and memories hitting me so hard; I felt as though I took those moments between me and my dad for granted, but I tried to ignore that feeling. Then I began to worry about my mother, what if I never gotten to see her again? From then on, out of reaction to the news still fresh in my father's passing, I began cherishing every single moment between me and my mother. I was really afraid of losing her.

Come to think of it now, that was also the time I really began putting more emotion into my voice for the chorus of "In The End," the part where I sing; I'm not afraid to die.

X

I hated this feeling. Honestly, I Ginga wasn't here right now, I probably would've hanged myself with my scarf by now. He was a great friend. In fact, we were already best friends now.

"The last thing I said to him was, see you tonight, dad. Then that was it."

Ginga held my shoulder, "Don't beat yourself up because of it, we never expect these things. When or how they happen. It can come just like that and then it makes us think things are little and precious to be taken so lightly."

I felt somewhat better, but in my mind I was saying; how will that bring back my father? But then I said for real; "I just want things to go back to the way they were this morning."

"Same here." He says, "More like two years ago."

I look up from my chair, "What happened to you?"

He looked too unsure to say, but considering he said Two Years Ago, it wouldn't hurt, but just a little though; "My mom died when she was in a fire."

"I'm sorry." I say sympathetically.

"It's alright, I'm sorry for you though." He said looking at me, and he was also fighting back some tears too, "She died from smoke inhalation, my dad and I got out, but I passed out from the smoke, dad dragged me out and was worried if he lost me too. Then when I came conscious, mom was being worked on my firemen and was pronounced dead on arrival."

I was so damn depressed right now, I didn't even want to say anything, but in a way, it was good to talk for a while.

"Wow, so we have something in common now." I chuckle. Holding my face in my palms. Ginga sits there, saying nothing him too. Then I remember; "Sounds freaky, but it's like we relate to Kai Hiwatari and Tyson Granger." I say.

"Yeah, but mainly Tyson." Ginga muttered.

"Yeah, that's right."

So that night, Ginga and I fell asleep, watching and listening to my favorite artist, and surprisingly Ginga's too, Kai Hiwatari. Before then, we decided to trade something as to seal our friend ship. At first we thought of trading guitars, but instead, we just traded shoes. We were both same foot size. Size 12.

Today was a really big change. I went to a new school, finally rid of my bullies, met a new friend, and . . . my dad dies.

Some fucking day, right?

(A/N: Hey guys! I hope you loved this chapter more than ever! I've had some fresh experience on this part.

Also I am part sad at the moment; the first week of October, a friend of my mom's passed away in an apartment complex fire. She was 58. So near the end of this chapter when I explained Ginga's mother's passing, I thought of her. Because I knew my mother's friend well, she was very nice, always the type to lend a helping hand, and she loved her "Têtes  Claques." It's a French show they air here in Quebec. Seeing it now makes me think of her. She loved to say "For Fuck's Sake" when she would get aggravated, and it kind of rubbed off on us a bit, even called her "Cecile" as a nick name from the French show. The freaky thing was that on the night she passed, my mother was just talking to her on the phone, and after she hung up, hours later into the night; that's when the fire started. We heard about it the next day minutes before I was coming back from school.

So this story is also dedicated to her in her memory. She loved all genres of music, especially "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum which was the last song I played for her this past winter.

X

So there's that. Also; I own NOTHING to Metal Fight Beyblade or the original Beyblade, Black Veil Brides music, or anything depicted in this fanfic.

Kyoya Tategami music by Black Veil Brides.)

Tyson Kinomiya Granger