Chapter Text
Comment left on FOBFans.com:
Jish_RatADun Writes:
Hey Tyler, I really loved ur blog post! Ur lyrics r so good! Normally I don't like anything on this site but u rly inspired me! Where do u live?
Private Message from PoetTyjo:
Thanks for ur comment! I live about 6 hours from Main City, what about u?
Private Message from Jish_RatADun:
I’m not from here originally but I live in Main City.
Private Message from PoetTyjo:
I’ve never been to Main City. I hear it's nice!
Private Message from Jish_RatADun:
It's very nice – u should come visit some time!
***
Private Message from Jish_RatADun:
Dude I saw ur pictures – u could defo make it as a model!!
***
Private Message from Jish_RatADun:
Ty, Fall Out Boy concert this week at Main City!!
Private Message from PoetTyjo:
I saw! I wish I cud go but I work all the time…
Private Message from Jish_RatADun:
Dude, do something wild for once! Let's meet at the concert!!
***
Private Message from PoetTyjo:
Can't wait to meet u at Main City for the concert! See u soon!!
***
Tyler sat at the wooden bus stop bench, his mother by his side. His thoughts got interrupted by the sudden heavy revs from an engine, soon followed by the screeching of brakes as the lavish black car halted in front of them, throwing dirt around from the dry, earthy road underneath.
“Hey, Ty. Yo, Ty,” the girl in the driver's seat called to him.
Tyler took off his headphones to hear what else this repulsive girl had to say.
“You changed that pretty little mind of yours yet? Fancy being my husband?”
Tyler rolled his eyes in an attempt to ignore her as her friends laughed from the back seats.
“You can't fight this love forever; I know you’ll change your mind soon baby,”
Tyler glared at her. “Yeah, Marsha, when hell freezes over and pigs begin to fucking fly."
The girl put on her pair of designer sunglasses. “Well, I guess I’d better start telling Satan to turn that heating down then, eh?” She made a clicking noise as she winked, before putting her foot down on the accelerator as the car raced off back down the dirt road.
“Why can’t you just marry her, Ty? Then we can be out of this hellhole once and for all,” his mother scolded.
“I’ve told you before, mother,” Tyler said sternly. “I will never marry that waste-of-air woman, no matter how much money her thug father could throw at us. End of.”
The bus pulled up to their stop, as they stood to get on. “You can be so bloody selfish sometimes,” his mother said abruptly.
The fact of the matter was, Tyler only had two choices in life. He could either choose to marry Marsha and live the rest of his life under a mafia family, or he could continue to work at the meat packaging factory his mother also worked at. They shared the facility with prison labourers, but his mother still reminded him how lucky they were to not be like them. They had jobs, and they were free. But Tyler couldn't see the difference. He hated it here.
He stood as the bus pulled away due to his mother taking the last available seat. He pulled his poetry journal out from his satchel along with a pen. His journal was covered in a blue fabric with white and purple stripes running along it. He often turned to poetry as an escape from the world around him. He scribbled on a new page,
‘Mama, fight my teenage dreams,
No it’s nothing wrong with me,
The kids are all wrong, the story's aloof,
Heavy metal, rock my heart.’
***
The Main City. Josh sat on a bench, furiously typing away on his phone as sirens blared from the cars driving past. This place sucks, he thought to himself. A kid from the local school barged into his shoulder, nearly knocking his phone from his hand as the kid ran off. Asshole, he thought to himself. He had called his step-mother half an hour ago, waiting for her to pick him up. She told him she was stuck in traffic, a lie Josh had heard too many times before. He knew all this really meant was she was still out spending his father’s money whilst he was away again on business.
He typed a message out to Tyler:
“Step-monsters late again. Can't wait to see you Friday!”
As he clicked send, a car beeped as it pulled up in front of his bench. He noticed his step-mother in the driver’s seat. Oh look, the bitch got a new car, he thought to himself as he forced himself to get in. He made his way through the crowds of people to open the passenger door.
“Why do you have to be late? Every day you’re late,” Josh yelled as he sat down.
***
Private Message from PoetTyjo:
Every day I come home smelling of meat. When I'm a famous model I’ll bathe in cologne.
Josh smiled at Tyler’s message on his laptop. A beat he had produced played in the background filling his bedroom. Josh had dreams of becoming a music producer, composing music in the style of his favourite band, Fall Out Boy. At that moment, his step-mother burst through his bedroom door. The two of them glared at each other. She held up an empty pill bottle.
“You’ve stolen my pills again.”
“No I did not,” Josh yelled at her. “Get out of my room!”
“Then why do these bottles keep appearing in the laundry?” His step-mother said, her arm resting on the door frame.
“Because you were too high to remember where you put them,” Josh said sarcastically as he made his way over to the door.
“Your laundry,” his step-mother said sternly. “Don’t try me, Josh.”
“I didn't steal your stupid pills,” Josh retaliated, putting his hand on the open door in an attempt to close it. “Now get out of my room.”
His step-mother looked him dead in the eyes, neither of them flinching from being in each other's faces. “Lying druggie,” his step-mother said dryly as she turned to walk away. Josh slammed the door after her.
Private Message from Jish_RatADun:
Stupid bitch thinks I’m an abuser just like her. Fuck everything. Except for Fall Out Boy. They’re nihilists. Awesome nihilists. We’re going to meet them after the concert, I know it.
Private Message from PoetTyjo:
What’s a nihilist?
Private Message from Jish_RatADun:
Haha! It means they believe in nothing, so they can do anything. See u tomorrow!