[Biography] Not Another Slashy Teen Movie (Part One)

[sungreen70.livejournal.com]

Whew! I finally finished my movie fic for the biography challenge. This was a tough prompt! I finally decided on "The Breakfast Club" for my inspiration, and the plot and a little of the dialogue are blatantly ripped off from that. I was originally intending to do just a couple of scenes, but I kept writing and it got ridiculously long, and as always when I write anything much longer than a few pages, I started panicking and thinking it was boring and going nowhere. But I decided to take Cae's suggestion to stop overthinking and just write the damn thing :) So here it is. It is very AU - they're in high school. There's no sex, but there is a little slash. I'm going to be posting it in multiple parts, not sure yet just how many...

Title: Not Another Slashy Teen Movie
Author: Sun Green
Characters: Ryan, Colin, Brad, Jeff, Drew, Dan Patterson
Rating: PG for language
Summary: Based on "The Breakfast Club"

Drew Carey paused outside the entrance to the Proops High School library, taking off his thick-lensed glasses to give them a nervous polishing. A long day loomed ahead, and he fervently hoped he would make it through without being stuffed into a locker or sustaining a wedgie. Sighing deeply, he squared his shoulders, and pushed opened the heavy door.

 

Colin Mochrie stopped in the boy’s room on his way to the library and peered into the mirror. That expensive new gel wasn’t the greatest, he decided with a contemplative frown, as he pushed a few strands of his thick, shining hair into place. Pulling out the comb he kept stashed in the pocket of his Guess jeans, he ran it through his mullet and wondered if he should make an appointment to have his highlights done again. Not that he looked bad, but as Prom King, and generally known as the cutest boy in school, he couldn’t let anything slide. Brushing a nearly invisible bit of lint from the sleeve of his Bugle Boy shirt, he smiled with satisfaction at his reflection and headed out.

 

Brad Sherwood expertly dribbled a basketball as he entered the concrete schoolyard, making a perfect hook shot from several yards away that sunk neatly into the basket. Pumping his fist triumphantly, he grabbed the ball as it bounced back to him and twirled it on his finger before remembering where he was going. With a groan, he tucked the basketball under his arm and took the steps into the school two at a time.

 

Ryan Stiles had arrived on the school grounds several minutes before the assigned time. Since he’d be damned if he’d show up a minute early, he bided his time spray-painting “Mrs. Greenwood Fucks Goats” on the sidewalk in front of the main entrance. He glanced at the schoolyard clock and saw that there was still time, so he added “Van Halen Rulz” to his graffiti before tossing the can through an open classroom window and trudging into the building.

 

Jeff Davis skipped down the sidewalk, swirling a long black cape around him. A woman holding the hand of a toddler glanced at him curiously as he passed, and in response he grinned at her and laughed maniacally. Alarmed, she quickened her pace, nearly yanking the child off his feet in her haste to get away from the cackling teen. Jeff laughed again, and ran the rest of the way to school, the cape flowing behind him like wings.

 

******

 

Principal Dan Patterson stood imposingly at the front of the room, glaring at the teens as they shuffled in and found seats at the library tables. The first one to arrive, Drew smiled shyly at Mr. Patterson, blushing as the principal merely eyed him coldly. Scurrying over to the first table he saw, Drew down quickly, nervously avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the room. Colin paused to tie the laces on one of his Reebok high tops on the way in, prompting Patterson to snarl “Hurry up!”

 

Startled, Colin straightened up. “What-ever,” he muttered under his breath, careful not to let Patterson hear. Moving towards an empty table, he carefully hung his FILA jacket over the back of a chair and took a seat.

 

“Come on,” the principal barked out into the hallway. “You waiting for a personal invitation?” Brad Sherwood trudged in and surveyed the room. His eyes lit on Colin, and he edged over to the table, looking at the other boy questioningly. Colin smiled, shrugging slightly, and cast his eyes down demurely as the basketball captain pulled out a chair beside him. Then both of them, along with Drew, looked up with a start as Jeff burst into the room, singing an Italian aria at the top of his voice.

 

Dan Patterson stepped forward quickly, seizing Jeff’s shoulder. “You!” he snapped. Jeff stopped in his tracks, gaping at the principal with wide eyes. “What do you think this is, mister – the school talent show?” Jeff continued to stare, his mouth slightly open. “Well?” Patterson demanded, glowering as the boy remained silent. “Listen, pal – I will not tolerate any shenanigans in here. Am I making myself clear?”

 

In response, Jeff gave a squeak of terror and threw his cape over his head. Jerking away from the outraged principal, he ran to table in the farthest corner of the room and crashed into a chair, hiding his head in his arms. The other three students turned to stare at him as a vein in Patterson’s forehead bulged alarmingly. “I’m warning you one last time, mister. Knock it off, or there’ll be trouble.”

 

At that threat, Jeff threw back the cape and straightened up in his chair, folding his hands on the table in front of him and smiling angelically at Mr. Patterson, the very image of a model student. Patterson sucked in a deep breath, looking as though he were going to say more, but thinking better of it. Instead, he glanced at his watch, and looked around with a scowl. “Where is Stiles?” he demanded of the group. Colin and Brad glanced at each other, shrugging. Brad looked back at the principal.

“Who?”

 

Patterson snorted. “You wouldn’t know him, Sherwood. He doesn’t hang around with the athletes.” He gave the basketball captain the closest thing to an approving look as he’d ever bestowed upon a Proops High student. Brad started to smile smugly, until he noticed Colin rolling his eyes. Miffed, he bit back his smile and looked away.

 

The door behind Patterson opened with a bang. “Hey, it’s all right,” Ryan Stiles announced. “I made it.” He started to stroll in, then stopped in his tracks. “Aw, crap!” he exclaimed. “I forgot my lunch box. Well, I’ll be back in two shakes -” He was cut off as the principal’s hand clamped down on the collar of his ragged denim jacket and jerked him back.

 

“I’m going to say this to you once, Stiles. Shut your mouth, and sit down now.” He shoved Ryan in the direction of the library tables and fixed his stony gaze on the rest of the students. “That goes for all of you. If you think you’re here to play, think again.” Folding his arms across his chest, Patterson took in all five students with a withering glance. “This is Saturday detention. For those of you who may have difficulty understanding what that means, let me clarify. It means you screwed up. And now, you pay for it.” He smiled nastily. “For the next eight hours, you’re going to sit there, with your mouths shut, and think about what you did. Those of you capable of thought, that is,” he added, with a pointed glance at Ryan. Ryan glowered, but said nothing. “I can assure you,” Patterson continued. “Whatever you did to get yourselves stuck in here today, it wasn’t worth it. And you will think twice before you pull any crap again.” He started towards the door, then stopped. “And just so we’re clear. Anyone who steps out of line today comes back next week. Am I understood?”

 

Colin, Brad, and Drew nodded silently, while Jeff gazed into space with a dreamy smile.

 

“Yeeees, Mis-ter Pat-ter-son,” Ryan sing-songed.

 

Patterson turned on Ryan furiously, the vein in his forehead bulging again. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, fuming. “Watch it, Stiles,” was all he said as he turned and stalked out of the room.

 

Ryan raised an arm over his head, middle finger extended towards Patterson’s retreating figure. The principal whirled around suddenly, casting a suspicious look at Ryan, who was yawning elaborately while stretching his arms over his head. He gazed innocently back at Mr. Patterson. “Late night at the strip club,” he explained.

 

Drew snorted with laughter, and Patterson turned on him, appearing relieved to have an excuse to ignore Ryan. “Something funny, Mr. Carey?” he inquired icily.

 

“N-no sir,” Drew stammered.

 

Without another word, Dan Patterson stalked out of the room.

 

Silence reigned for roughly two minutes. Then Ryan sighed loudly. “Shit. This sucks.”

 

Drew cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. “We’re not supposed to talk,” he reminded Ryan softly. Ryan flipped him off, and Drew quickly turned back around. The room grew quiet again. Ryan tipped his chair back on two legs, propping his feet up on the table. Fishing into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

 

“Anybody got a light?”

 

At the table in front of him, Brad turned and scowled at Ryan. “Don’t even think about smoking in here.”

 

Ryan smirked, tapping the package until a cigarette slid out. “Oh, sorry, Smokey the Bear. I didn’t know this was your forest.”

 

“Look, asshole, there’s a smoke detector right over your head. You set that off, Patterson will be back in here and we’ll all get stuck in detention again next week. I am not giving up another Saturday to sit here with the likes of you.”

 

Ryan brought his chair back down to the floor with a crash. “Oh, the likes of me? Only losers like me fuck up and get stuck in here, huh? And people like you are too good to screw up and get – oh, that’s right!” He smiled mockingly at Brad.

 

“Listen, jackass - ” Brad began, rising from his chair.

 

“Come on, cut it out -” Colin interjected. Ignoring him, Ryan also got to his feet and leaned over the table so his face was inches from Brad’s.

 

“Hey, if you have a problem with me, let’s -”

 

During this exchange, Jeff had been rummaging through the backpack at his feet. Now he leaned across the aisle, offering Ryan what looked suspiciously like a blow torch. Both Ryan and Brad stopped mid-sentence and stared at him.

 

Jeff continued to offer the device. “You said you needed a light,” he remarked calmly.

 

In their confusion, Ryan and Brad glanced at each other, then quickly looked away. Ryan was the first to sit back down. “Freak,” he muttered. Brad took his seat next to Colin, shaking his head.

 

Jeff shrugged and put his blow torch away. Folding his arms on his desk, he lay his head down on them. Silence fell over the room again. It lasted only a few moments.

 

Colin’s neck prickled uncomfortably with the distinct feeling that he was being watched. He turned in his chair to find Ryan, directly behind him, with his head propped on his folded arms, staring intently at him.

 

“What are you looking at?” he demanded in his best withering voice.

 

Ryan was unfazed. “Did you know you’re going grey?”

 

Colin’s hand flew involuntarily to his hair. Recovering, he pulled it away and glared at Ryan. “I am not!”

 

Ryan jabbed a finger at a strand of Colin’s hair that was a lighter color than the rest of it. “So what do you call that?”

 

Colin swatted his hand away. “It’s a highlight.”

 

Ryan snorted. “Is that French for grey?”

 

“No, it’s French for ‘shut up, jerk.’”

 

“Oooh!” Ryan clasped his hands over his heart and sagged back in his chair. “Good comeback, Fila. You wound me.”

 

“What did you call me?”

 

“It’s your name, isn’t it? It’s written on your jacket.” Ryan prodded the expensive windbreaker with his foot.

 

Colin laughed. “Look, just because you’ll end up working a crappy job where you have to wear a nametag and a hairnet doesn’t mean the rest of us will.”

 

“I got news for you, Fila – I already work a crappy job. You know why? Because if I want to eat, I gotta work. But you don’t, do you? I bet you don’t work at all. I bet you have a rich daddy who buys you all your clothes with labels on them, huh?” When Colin was silent, Ryan snatched the jacket from the back of his chair. “How much did Daddy pay for this?”

Colin grabbed for his jacket. “None of your business.” He brushed it off carefully before draping it over the chair again.

 

Ryan laughed. “Oh, sorry, Fila. Did I get my germs on it?”

 

“Stop calling me Fila!” Colin hissed through gritted teeth.

 

Ryan shrugged. “What’s your name, then?”

 

“Colin.”

 

“That’s a bald guy’s name.”

 

“Yeah, sure. I’m not bald.”

 

“Not yet. But you will be. I read once that people who put highlights in their hair go bald before they’re twenty five.”

 

“Yeah, like you know how to read.”

 

“I’m not kidding. It was in Hustler.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Ryan leaned over the desk so his head was next to Colin’s. “You ever read Hustler, Colin?”

 

“Get away from me, jerk.”

 

“You ever pose for Hustler?”

 

“Shut UP!” Colin’s rose to a shout and he pounded the table in front of him. At the next table Jeff awoke with a start, shouting unintelligibly as he jumped, knocking over the chair beside him.

 

“Guys!” Drew hissed imploringly, as loud footsteps approached the library and Dan Patterson’s voice boomed from out in the hall.

 

“What’s going on in there?”  

 

All five teens quickly settled themselves in their chairs as the principal stormed into the room, red in the face. “What is all the noise?” When no one replied, he looked at Drew. “Carey!”

 

Drew jumped. “Yes, sir?”

 

“Who was responsible for the noise I just heard?”

 

Drew opened his mouth to say something. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ryan’s glare, and clamped it shut. “Umm… what noise, sir?”

 

“Don’t get smart with me, Carey.” Patterson scowled, looking around to include the rest of the students in his angry look. “You can all come back here next week if you’re having so much fun. And you all will, if someone doesn’t tell me right now what is going on in here.”

 

Ryan’s hand shot up in the air. “I think I can explain it, Mr. Patterson, sir. That noise you heard was Drew pleasuring himself. He does get carried away, sir. The rest of us were quite appalled.”

 

Drew’s jaw dropped and his face colored as both Colin and Brad snickered. Jeff merely stared off into the distance, humming under his breath as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

 

“He’s lying!” Drew squealed, outraged. But Dan Patterson ignored him, storming over to Ryan’s table.

 

“You think you’re funny, don’t you Stiles? You think you’re a real comedian. You should be doing stand up, huh?”

 

“Actually, I prefer improvisational comedy, sir.” Ryan smiled at the infuriated principal. “I find it far more challenging.”

 

“Okay, Stiles. You just bought yourself another week in detention. I’ll see you next Saturday. And you can add on another week for that ruckus I just heard. I know it had something to do with you.”

 

Ryan smirked. “Oh, I wouldn’t call it a ruckus. More like hanky panky.”

 

Patterson slammed his hands down on Ryan’s table and leaned forward. He was beyond anger now. His eyes were dark with hatred. “That’s another week. You want to try for four?”

 

“Sure, why the fuck not?” Ryan too leaned closer, so their faces were nearly touching, glaring just as fiercely. The air was suddenly thick with tension, and other students glanced at each other with growing alarm as the two glowered at each other. Even Jeff seemed to have snapped out of his reverie and was watching the scene with a frown.

 

“You got it. Let me tell you something, Stiles. You have one year of high school left to keep screwing around. Then we’re gonna kick you out of here to fend for yourself in the real world, and you’re gonna find it a much different place than here. No one’s gonna put with a bunch of crap from a punk like you. The only reason you’re still here in this school is there are laws that say we have to keep you here till you’re eighteen. That’s the only reason we haven’t tossed your ass out on the street already. Don’t think it’s because anyone here cares what happens to a pathetic loser like -”

 

A sudden, high pitched shriek made everyone in the room jump. Patterson whirled around to face Jeff, who had made the noise. “What is the matter with you?” he demanded.

 

Jeff simply gazed at him for a long moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing, Mr. Patterson,” he said in the same calm voice in which he’d offered Ryan his blow torch earlier.

 

“Look, pal, you saw what happened to Stiles here when he decided to act cute. You’re more than welcome to join him again next week. One more stunt out of you and you will. Understood?’

 

Unruffled, Jeff nodded.

 

Patterson glanced around at the others. “That goes for all of you. I suggest you think it over carefully before you decide to try me. Let Stiles here be a lesson to you. Do you really want to end up a worthless piece of garbage like him?”

 

The principal spoke so callously as he jerked his head towards Ryan that Colin winced. So did Brad. Even Drew, still smarting from his humiliation, looked taken aback. Jeff merely looked gravely at Patterson and then turned his gaze on Ryan. Without waiting for a response, Patterson turned and stalked out of the room.

 

Slowly, Colin turned to look at Ryan. Brad did the same. Jeff had not taken his eyes off of him since Patterson had hurled his disparaging remarks, and he continued to regard Ryan quietly. Drew peered over his shoulder, then turned around in his seat to see better.

 

Ryan was slumped in his chair, eyes closed. His hands were clenched into fists. They could hear his short, ragged breaths. From his vantage point directly in front of him, Colin could see that Ryan was trembling slightly. Mr. Patterson’s cruel words, spoken in front of the other students, had had their intended effect, but Ryan was clearly determined not to let Patterson break him, and was struggling to control his emotions.

 

Despite himself, Colin couldn’t help feeling a grudging admiration for him.

 

He turned back around and, noticing Brad was still staring, nudged his shoulder. Brad looked at him questioningly, but Colin simply turned and faced the front of the room. Then Brad followed suit. Jeff had already turned his attention to a small pencil stub he’d found on the floor and was rolling it back and forth across the table top, staring at it in fascination.

 

Only Drew remained facing Ryan, watching him with disapproval.

 

“You know, Ryan,” he said suddenly. “I could have told Mr. Patterson that you were the one making trouble before he came in here, and I didn’t. So I don’t know why you had to go and say what you said about me.”

 

Ryan ignored him. His breathing had slowed, but eyes were still closed. His lips were pressed together in a tight line. Drew continued. “I didn’t appreciate that, man. It wasn’t funny.” He stared at Ryan when the other boy didn’t respond. “Oh sure – now you’re gonna leave me alone, now that you got in trouble for it. ‘Cause you know Mr. Patterson isn’t gonna put up with any more -”

 

“Hey, Drew...” Colin interrupted. Drew glanced at him, surprised.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Shut the hell up, okay?” 


On To Part Two