Chapter Text
It took the class approximately 0.52 seconds to all scramble through the door when the bell finally rang. Jeremy shuffled out last, not wanting to be trapped in the midst of the corridor chaos, his eyes glued firmly to the ground. He melted into the background pretty easily that way and no one glanced at him twice. Perfect.
"Fucking faggot!"
Oh shit, were they yelling at him?
Eyes down, Jeremy. Speed walk.
"You're better of dead, you gay fat ass!"
Oh thank god - they weren't talking to him. The voices were coming from around the corner and besides, Jeremy was built like a beanpole anyway.
Suddenly a wave of guilt hit him as he realised he hadn't given a second thought to the poor guy who the insults were aimed at, but he quickly pushed the thought aside.
You're not a hero. You can't do anything for them.
That is until he heard a familiar voice splutter out a defiant response.
"Oh yeah, 'cause you're such an asset to this world!"
These words were followed by a thud and the echoing clash of something collapsing into a locker.
SHIT.
All fear of being noticed forgotten, Jeremy sprinted as best as he could towards the voices through the suffocating corridor. However, it became easier as others started running with him, desperate to find out what was going on. This school would do anything for a hint of gossip.
As Jeremy skidded around the corner his heart plummeted. A crowd had formed, and as Jeremy shoved and squeezed his way towards the front he saw his fears confirmed.
Three seniors - one girl and two guys - were looming over Micheal, who, despite leaning heavily against the lockers and having a trickle of blood under his nose, stared straight back at them, refusing to back down. Jeremy felt sick. Clearly these three had been hurling just as many punches as they had been insults, and now they had an audience.
"Don't fucking talk back, asshole"
The senior who spat out the words shoved Micheal to the ground as he did, causing Jeremy to start clawing his way through the excitable crowd towards his friend. He didn't know what he was gonna do when he got there, but he couldn't just stand and let it happen.
"Stop!"
The crowd hushed. Each of the seniors spun around to face Jeremy (who was shaking ridiculously) and Micheal shook his head slowly. The girl laughed and started walking towards Jeremy with a sneer plastered on her face.
"Aw, is this your boyfriend?"
He tensed up, preparing himself for what was to come. But just as she reached him the door to a nearby classroom swung open and a teacher marched out.
About damn time.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"
Chaos. The crowd scattered, leaving a disorientated Jeremy and a groaning Micheal alone. The teacher headed over.
"Do you know who those students were, Mell?"
Micheal swallowed and took a breath.
"No sir."
The teacher sighed. "You should go to the nurses office to get fixed up, okay?"
And with that, he was gone.
"Yeah, fat lot of use you were!"
Micheal hissed under his breath as he clambered to his feet. Jeremy ran over, helping him up. The anger he'd felt a minute ago had faded into a sadness and extreme concern for his friend. How could someone to that to him? How dare they?
More importantly, what was he supposed to do or say to make it better?
"Are you okay?"
... well, it was a start.
It took a second before Micheal looked up at Jeremy to reply.
"I... yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
A small smile creeped onto his face.
"Forget the nurse. Wanna go play Apocalypse of the Damned? At your house though, I don't want my parents seeing me like this."
The nonchalant way he replied pained Jeremy so much. This should not be a normal occurrence. Sure, it wasn't usually this bad, but for the most part the words shouted across the hall on a daily basis hurt almost as much as the occasional punch. He knew firsthand. Recently though, Micheal had been the target of a few more punches than usual, and it worried Jeremy. A lot. Although he admired Micheal, sometimes he wished he could just keep his head down instead of standing his ground all the time.
But he wasn't going to deny his best friend anything at that point - not when he was limping, his nose was bleeding, and a black eye had already begun to blossom.
"Sounds like a plan. Will you be alright with the walk?"
"I'll survive."