Survival Of The Fittest

((Brendan Wallace continued from Food For Thought))

Brendan was enjoying what was a great day. He found a hair straightener that worked a few weeks ago, grew his hair longer and was complimented on it by a few people when walking to school that morning; that was when the word was came into play. He had gotten an assignment back just before lunch; a Legal Studies task on which he spent so much time, and he got a C. Plus. While some people he used to know would be okay with this, it severely annoyed him. He became even more recluse than usual, not talking to anyone par the teachers, and finding a nice, recluse spot to spend his lunch time. And that was how he got here.

What Brendan lacked in social skills towards his peers, he more than made up for with the relationship with his teachers. Whether it be convincing one to give him flexibility with handing in an assignment, or convincing one to tighten the rules in order to land someone a detention (in secrecy, of course), it was one of the reasons Brendan could spend his lunches in the sanctuary of the school Drama Room.
That, and the Drama teacher was one of the most laid back individuals he had ever met.
After throwing his bag against the wall, he pulled a desk towards himself, retrieved a pen and notepad from his bag, and laid down his paper and pen. Brendan often free-wrote at home, but this was a rare opportunity to escape the hubbub of school life.

Free-writing consisted of writing anything that came to mind, without actually thinking. Brendan used this technique to unload the thoughts that plagued his mind and made him loose focus in class.
Brendan connected pen to paper, and wrote the first things that came to mind.
__________________________________________________________________

After 5 minutes, Brendan looked over what he wrote, and then decided to make it gramatically correct.
Okay, put in quotation marks, add full stops, make more depth, and we have a glorious excuse for a story. So Bad it's Good? So Good it's Bad? You be the judge, that imperfect excuse for a brain!
He looked over it again, and realise how bad it actually was.
Good god, I really need to stop watching TV after 11 at night. Wait, what does that have to do with anything? Oh yeah, the stuff that causes dreams may be creeping into my head while I'm awake, despite the fact that that only happens when one's been awake for over 96 hou-SHUT UP, BRENDAN!
Brendan ripped the page out of his notebook, aimed at the open bin in the corner, and threw. It bounced off the edge, and landed inside with a satisfying sound.

Frustrated that his only free thoughts were of video games, and that his brain was wandering off into the oblivion that was a daydream, he moved the book to the side of the desk, and held his head in his hand, stopping himself from banging it repeatedly on the desk.
Come on, Brendan, you can do better than this. This room is filled with such...feeling, and energy that should fill me with creative thoughts. Instead...nothing.

The Drama Room. A place where people learn that the many emotions and struggles of the human condition can be acted out in perhaps two hours by.... well, actors. Depending on their relative skill, and the quality of the play they were performing, it could be inspiring, or it could be depressing. Or, it could occasionally be both. The aim of the room, of course, was for people to learn how to do this correctly.

Mike Jeffries had always found the idea of acting very interesting. To put on another face, another persona, and live through their emotions... it was quite an intense thing to do. Did they feel those emotions when they were on the stage, he wondered? And did they still feel it when they left, if they felt it on the stage? Or did they not feel it at all, the acting simply that, something that was merely an outlet for their own creative expression of their own emotions?

Whatever the answer was, it always made the Drama Room an interesting lure for the most introspective students of Bayiew. It was a place where people could come and simply think, unheeded by the daily power struggles and politics of high highschool society. And that was the reason why Mike had chosen to come there during his lunch.

He walked into the room, and took a careful look around the room. Empty, for the most part- only the Drama teacher grading some writing and a boy sitting int he corner on a desk. What was his name... Brendan Wallace was what came to mind, and Mike trusted his instincts. He had a real knack for faces. He walked over, his backpack casually slung over one shoulder and began walking over to the desk next to the boy. As he did, he saw him crumple up a paper he had been working on and throw it with a look of frustration towards the garbage can. It went in perfectly- whatever problems the boy had with his writing skills, his basketball skills seemed to be dead on.

"Brendan- fancy seeing you here!" Mike said, taking a seat next to the boy. "Was that stuff you threw away something you were just writing?"

"Brendan- fancy seeing you here! Was that stuff you threw away something you were just writing?"

Brendan immediately took his head out of his hand and looked and the only person speaking in the room. His breath almost stopped when he saw it was Mike Jeffries sitting next to him. The Mike Jeffries. One of the most popular guys in school. The one with whom he shared numerous classes with, including Mathematics. While Brendan got A's, Mike got A+'s. For that he was kind of jealous. Only a bit.

"Oh...hey, Mike," Brendan said "Yeah, it was. I'm just writing. Not doing much of a good job at it, though."
Dammit, why am I being so nice? Well...he's kind of cute. I must have a thing for blondes. Abby was a blonde. Except Chase had black hai-Brendan, you're going off in your own head again. Someone actually wants to speak to you, so now FUCKING SPEAK BACK! Keep nothing in your head! Blurt out everything!

Brendan looked around the room. He never noticed how colorful the walls looked in this light. He also didn't notice the Drama teacher at his desk, marking some papers. He could have sworn he wasn't there before. In any case, Brendan turned back to Mike.
"So, how are things?" Brendan asked, almost blurting it out.

"So, how are things?"

"Pretty good, hahaha" Mike said, smiling and laughing back at Brandon. It was a cheerful, relaxed laugh. Brendan seemed shy, a little tense- Mike wanted to lighten the mood a little bit. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. "I had to leave the cafeteria- too much stuff going on in there."

"People asking the stupidest questions... saying things about other people behind their backs, asking me if I heard anyone say something about them behind their backs, telling me who hooked up with who... I just can't listen to that stuff for long. Clogs my head up, y'know?" Mike pulled a packet of gum out of his pocket, popping a piece of it into his mouth and chewing.

"So, I decided to come here, and just relax. Take a little time to think about stuff. Stuff that actually matters." He's a nice guy, and I've got nothing better to do with my time... plus, it'll be fun to sit here and talk with him for a little bit. He looks like he needs someone to talk to. Mike then frowned, his face screwed up in thought, and then made a little frustrated noise.

"Oh my god- Brendan, I'm so sorry! I forgot to ask if you wanted a piece of gum!" said Mike, a look of true guilt on his face as he pulled the packet out of his pocket. Then the smile came back as he presented the packet to Brendan, waiting for him to take it. "Do you want one? It's Winter Mint... my favorite."

When Mike started talking about himself-

"Pretty good, hahaha,"

Brendan felt like he wanted to listen-

"I had to leave the cafeteria- too much stuff going on in there."

Not just to his voice-

"People asking the stupidest questions... saying things about other people behind their backs, asking me if I heard anyone say something about them behind their backs, telling me who hooked up with who... I just can't listen to that stuff for long. Clogs my head up, y'know?"

But to the person who stood before him-

"So, I decided to come here, and just relax. Take a little time to think about stuff. Stuff that actually matters."

Who was the first who said hello to him in a long time.

"Oh my god- Brendan, I'm so sorry! I forgot to ask if you wanted a piece of gum!"
Gum? Oh yeah, that's allowed in American schools!. Brendan was in full thought mode as Mike took out a packet of his pocket, and presented it to him.
"Do you want one? It's Winter Mint... my favorite."
"...Sure, okay".
Brendan took a strip of gun from the packet, and tossed it into his mouth. He started chewing, mouth closed, as the full mint experience flowed through his gums. He wasn't particularly fond of mint gum, but this one took the proverbial cake. He thought about blowing a bubble, but he then realized that:
a)There wasn't enough gum, and
b)It's not a polite thing to do in public.

Realizing he had an awkward silence on his hands, he looked around the room again, and saw that during the time that Mike was talking, the teacher had apparently left the room.
Brendan stopped wandering his mind, and turned back to Mike again.
"So, the last months of school are upon us all. What do you think you're gonna do once you leave. Go to univer-I mean, college? I probably will be..." Brendan said. He realised how forward he was being. Though it may have just been small-talk, he really didn't know Mike that well. He really didn't know anyone that well.
Come on, Brendan, stop being so hard on yourself. You're not a lonely freak who spends his hours in his basement playing Warhammer. You're a sociable, likable person...who just happens to be really socially awkward...yeah.

((John Smith continued from The Calm ))

John hurried for somewhere quiet where he could read his newly-bought manga, discounting the campus grounds on his way to the Cafetorium. It was too sunny and not private enough. When he reached the Cafetorium, he scowled to himself - much too busy and noisy in there. He sighed and turned towards his last hope - the Drama hall.

John opened the door and saw it was empty - then saw two guys sat talking. He hesitated for a moment.
'They might be having a private discussion' he thought. 'Though they could just be waiting for the teacher to come back...'
He entered the room and closed the door behind him. If they were having a private chat, they could carry on with him here - just talk quietly. The room was big enough after all. He took his backpack, decorated with seven Dragon Ball pins, from his shoulder and put it down next to the chair he was sitting in. It was far enough from the other two to not disturb them and so it didn't seem like he was spying on them. He took his new manga, Love Hina volume 6, out of his backpack and put it on the desk in front of him, opening it to start reading it.

(( OOC: Skipping post order. Sorry guys, no offense, but I've got places to be and characters to develop, and if this isn't being touched, well then I need to get out))

Brendan looked at the new arrival in the Drama Room. It was some kid with a Dragon Ball backpack who just got as far away from him and Mike as possible.
Now Brendan was starting to worry. Was there usually this many people in the Drama Room at lunch? Was his own private sanctuary in which he would usually have mulled over his thoughts simply to be lost like this?
Brendan paused, and then finally spoke.
"Uh...sorry, but I gotta go," Brendan said to Mike, right before grabbing everything on his desk, retrieving his bag, and dumping everything in over the top before closing it. Brendan grabbed the desk, the one adjacent to Mike's, and pulled it back so he could walk through. He opened the door, took one last look at what was meant to be his isolation, and closed the door behind him, never looking back.
He knew it was rude, and he was worried. He had tried over the last few years not to care what people thought of him, but the knowledge of what people could say and do to him if they knew everything could surround him like a shell and suffocate him.

((Brendan Wallace continued in Ego Sum Volo Futurus))

John hears someone leave the room and looked up, seeing Mike still there. He shrugged and went back to his manga. He only planned to read a few chapters of it, then go to class. Although he would need to look at his schedule to find out what lesson was next - he was too busy reading to remember what day it was, let alone what lesson was next.

((John Smith continued in Having A Rest))