I don't own the Breakfast Club

Enjoy!

A/N: I just wanted to point out that there could be emotional trigger warnings in this chapter.

Brian Johnson's forehead connected with the coldness of the locker as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't believe it. Another F. No matter how much effort he put into that shops class, it meant nothing to the teacher. He hoped that the teacher would show at least some sympathy, that he was trying to do his very best in the class. However, he should have known that some teachers were not always lenient. How was he going to tell this to show his face in that classroom again? Even worse, how we he going to show his face to his parents when they found out that he was failing this class.

Oh no they're not just going to let it go Brian thought. They're going to look at my report card and just give me that look of disappointment. His hand formed into a fist and slammed it against the wall. "Ow," he seethed as he rubbed the pain with his other hand. He can just hear his mother's intrusive tone of voice making her way into his head.

"You tried? This is not trying at all mister! A B+ is trying but an F? Failure. F-A-I-L-U-R-E. I can't believe that you would ever do something like this. How difficult can a shops class be? You just put pieces of wood together and made the product that you need."

It as a lot harder than that, Brian was experiencing it and he was missing a skill that other people in the class had. No matter how much he thought to himself that just because he wasn't as skilled didn't mean that he was a failure, did not make him feel at ease. He felt a sudden sharp tightness in his chest. There is goes again he thought as he leaned back against his locker and tried to calmly breathe through his nose.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Or are you just going to fail at that too?

Not even those breathing exercises were helping him. He slowly opened his eyes only to close them again. The pool of students that walked past him in different colored clothes gave him a headache. Though he couldn't block out the noise, let alone his parents' voices that emphasized that he was a failure. He heard someone letting out a sigh next to him as they opened up their locker. Brian turned around and saw a blond girl with a highlighted blue streak taking out a notebook from her locker before slamming it shut. Her mouth was tight, her eyes were lowered, and her eyebrows were furrowed. She kept her eyes glued to the ground and didn't dare raise them, but Brian could feel that something was off with her. Then, his attention was caught by a group of girls that passed him laughing with one another as they dreamt about the upcoming prom. That was just the thing with Shermer High. Either students were happy in the cliques that they were in or unhappy because they couldn't please their parents with the effort that they did.

As for Brian, he couldn't wait to finally be out of here and away from his parents. He dreamt about being at a prestigious college, as far away as possible from Chicago. Maybe he would turn out to be different in college? Maybe he wouldn't bothering coming home to spend the holidays! What would be the point in doing that if his parents were going to nag him of the classes that he took and what he would major in. Sometimes, he secretly joked that his parents were actually robots that they didn't harbor any sympathy for him but he knew that it wasn't the case.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he watched as the minutes ticked away to the end of the school day. At least the school day was over and he could go home, or better yet, lock himself in his room and remain away from his parents until he figured out what he was going to say. Turning back to his locker, he opened it to take out his coat and was only met with the horrible figure of the lamp. That wasn't just a lamp anymore. That was a reminder of the failure that he was.

A failure as a student. A failure in life. A failure as a son.

He was glad that the back of his head was facing the group of people that walked by him. He felt tears welling up in his eyes but he didn't make a sound. Others may have known him as being smart and the preps only labeling him as a nerd, but what they didn't know was that he was constantly stressed at trying to be the perfect student and the perfect son. He looked at the hideous lamp one more time and the more he looked at it, the more enraged he became at the reminder that it gave him. That was just it. His parents were never going to happy with him and he didn't think that he was ever going to be happy with the way things were going and the way he saw his future. He was part of a different generation. A generation that he didn't think his parents would ever understand and he felt suffocated by it.

Gathering himself, he pulled his head away from his locker and slammed it shut. The force was so loud that he noticed a couple of students flinch as they passed by him, but he didn't care. There was nothing to care about anymore.

Suddenly, the bell loudly rang; an indication to the end of a school day.