Archive of Our Own

If she was honest with herself, Marie Constantin liked her job. It was what she’d dreamed of for years. If she was even more honest, though? Some days, she hated these kids.

Just when she thought she'd seen it all, they'd outdo themselves. Pull the dumbest shit imaginable. Test every ounce of patience she had left.

Two years ago, she still had the energy to be that funny, relaxed teacher—the one who made students feel seen, the one who kept her cool. That was out the window now.

And today? Today, she wanted to be anywhere but here.

Stuck in the music room. Babysitting two delinquents in detention. And for what? A favor. Because Greg, the school's golden boy of a math teacher, had asked her with that wink —hand warm on her arm, voice dipped just enough to make her stupid brain short-circuit. She’d said yes like an idiot.

So, here she was.

Tyler Joseph. Seventeen. Basketball team.
Caught smoking weed under the bleachers. The gym teacher had chased him for two full laps before tackling him.
Three weeks of detention.

Joshua Dun. Seventeen. Band geek.
Managed to completely trash the music room. No one knew how , apparently not even him. Several instruments had been badly damaged.
Four weeks of detention.

Marie Constantin. Twenty-six. French teacher.
Made a questionable decision involving a beautiful coworker. Now stuck in after-school detention every damn day.

Fuck. That.

Josh Dun was not going to be a problem. She could tell right away.

He looked devastated , like he’d committed a federal crime instead of... whatever the hell he did to the music room. He stared at his desk, not daring to look at her or at Tyler. Fine by her. If he wanted to sit there, quietly drowning in shame, she could actually get some work done.

The real problem? Tyler Joseph.

He looked relentless , already bouncing his leg against the table like he had a time limit on being still. The other teachers had warned her—jokester, not mean, but annoying as hell if he put his mind to it. The kind of kid who didn’t know what it meant to sit in silence.

She frowned. Didn’t have his tongue in his pocket.

Huh. That didn’t sound right in English. Must be a French idiom.

Anyway. Focus. If she was going to survive this for four weeks, she had to set the tone now .

The silence didn’t last five minutes.

"Hey, what’s your name?"

Marie barely looked up from her grading. Tyler had turned toward Josh, trying—and failing—to be discreet. He had that mischievous smirk, and Josh actually looked panicked.

Interesting. So they didn’t know each other. At least they wouldn’t gang up on her.

"Quiet, Joseph," she said flatly. "Or I’m giving you French homework."

His mouth fell open in offense. "I don’t even take French!"

She sighed. The headache was already forming. "I know. I don’t care. You’re not allowed to talk."

"What if I need to pee?"

Marie rolled her eyes. "Then you ask."

Tyler smirked. "So I can talk to you."

Oh, he was going to be a nightmare. She wasn’t stupid enough to say yes to that—he’d find a loophole and annoy her into next week.

"Only if necessary. Are you done?" She lifted an eyebrow, daring him to push her.

Tyler huffed, arms crossing, and slumped back in his chair like a kid forced to sit in time-out. Marie held his gaze for a second longer, then returned to her grading.

Yep. This was going to be so annoying.

Day two was a fucking nightmare.

None of her students had done their assignments. Greg had kissed her senseless in an empty classroom, then asked for yet another favor. And like a fucking idiot, she had said yes— again.

So now she had to type out the report he was supposed to do. But of course, he was busy. He had so many more classes than her. It made sense.

And she had detention anyway. She had all the time in the world.

Tyler, apparently, did not.

He practically launched himself at her desk, eyes wide, mouth already moving.

"Mrs. Constantin, please—please let me go early."

Marie winced. Americans never got her name right, no matter how many times she corrected them. She exhaled slowly, shaking her head as she pulled out her laptop.

"Wow, Joseph. Second day in, and you're already trying to weasel out of detention?" She rolled her eyes.

"You don't understand," he insisted, slamming both hands on her desk.

She flinched. The movement stopped her cold, jaw locking tight.

"This is really important, I—"

"No." Her voice came out sharper than she meant. She squared her shoulders. "You got in trouble. Deal with it."

Tyler stepped back, expression crumbling. He looked genuinely distressed. It wasn’t fun for her—seeing him like that—but she needed him to understand she couldn’t just let him off the hook.

"Maybe you'll think twice next time you smoke weed under the bleachers," she muttered, trying to lighten the moment.

His expression hardened. Just like that, the desperation in his eyes disappeared, replaced by something closed-off, unreadable.

Without another word, he turned, walked back to his desk, and collapsed into his arms.

Josh, who had been quietly writing at his own desk, tried to pretend like he hadn’t been watching. But his posture stiffened, his pen pausing mid-word. His expression was conflicted.

Marie sighed.

She really, really didn’t want to be the bad guy. But if she let him off on day two , that was an open invitation for them to break every rule without consequences.

Still, when she heard the muffled sniffles coming from Tyler’s desk, her heart clenched.

Both she and Josh pretended not to hear.

When the hour was up, Josh left quickly, nodding at Marie but not sparing a single glance for Tyler.

She had spent the entire detention thinking about what she’d say. Because she had to say something. She couldn’t just leave him like that.

"Joseph, come here for a minute."

She leaned against the desk, watching as Tyler dragged himself toward her, still sniffling, trying—and failing—to hide his red-rimmed eyes. It was painful to look at.

Marie inhaled sharply. "I'm not doing this for fun, okay? You got punished. You have to play by the rules."

Tyler’s eyes snapped up, sharp and defensive. "I know, but—" He cut himself off, shaking his head, looking away.

"But?" she pressed.

His voice came out strained. "It was really important to me. I wasn’t just trying to get out of detention."

A beat of silence.

"What was it?"

Tyler sniffled. "It's stupid. It was an audition. For a band. They were looking for a singer, and I thought—" He swallowed hard. "And they were really good, too. So I wanted—" He stopped, deflating. "But it's stupid."

"It's not stupid, Joseph," she said gently. "Maybe you can still catch one of them? Ask if they’ll hold another audition?"

He shook his head, violently this time. "No. I missed it. And maybe that was my only chance—what if that was it? What if I never get another chance to sing in a band?"

And there it was.

That full-throttle teenage panic, where everything was either life-changing success or utter, irreversible failure.

Marie tilted her head. "It's not over. You can still sing. You can even start your own band." She paused. "What about Joshua Dun? He's a drummer... I think."

Tyler smirked, quick and mischievous. "Well, I wouldn’t know. You forbade me from talking to him."

For a kid spiraling about his future two seconds ago, he looked way too smug.

"Don't push it," she warned, but her lips twitched despite herself. "Anyway, if you’re serious about music, then keep up. Stay out of trouble. And don’t stop working for it."

And oh.

Yeah. That’s exactly why she wanted to be a teacher.

For a second, Tyler looked relieved—like he had hope again.

Maybe he wasn’t completely insufferable.

Day three.

Only day three out of four fucking weeks. She hated it here.

Marie opened the classroom door, expecting the usual: Josh, hunched over his homework, and Tyler, bouncing his damn leg against the desk.

Except not.

Tyler wasn’t in his seat. He was perched on the desk— not the chair—right next to Josh, talking a mile a minute, barely stopping for breath.

Weird shift in dynamic. But okay. Whatever.

And then—

"Yeah, Mrs. Constantin said we should start a band!"

She froze. Blinked.

Josh turned to look at her, pure betrayal in his eyes, like she’d personally tossed him into a lion’s den.

She didn’t. She hadn’t said that.

She kind of had. But not like that.

"Right?" Tyler beamed at her, all wide-eyed innocence.

Marie dragged a hand across her face. This little shit.

"Get down from that desk, Joseph. And get to your own."

"Can I sit here today? Josh and I need to discuss our band—since, you know, you told me to start one." His smirk was pure mischief.

Oh, he was back to being an insufferable menace. And Josh?

Josh looked like he was two minutes away from full-body collapse.

Did that kid ever talk? Marie mentally filed the thought away for later and focused on the real problem: the jokester.

"I didn’t say that, Joseph. Get to your desk."

Tyler pouted dramatically. "Wow. And here I thought you were an encouraging teacher who wouldn’t crush my dreams."

But he hopped down, dragging himself back to his seat with exaggerated sluggishness.

Marie narrowed her eyes. He was getting way too comfortable. Should she give him extra French homework just to put him in his place? Maybe. If he kept pushing.

She sat at her desk, prepared for another long, exhausting hour.

But something was different today.

Tyler kept stealing glances at Josh. And Josh—who had barely spoken since the first detention—kept pretending not to notice.

Weird.

Marie studied Josh for a moment. He was quiet. Too quiet for someone who had apparently trashed the entire music room. She still couldn’t picture it. A kid that reserved, keeping to himself, looking like he wanted to disappear into the walls—how had he caused that much damage?

And why wasn’t he clicking with Tyler? He was a drummer, a music geek. By all logic, he should have at least tolerated Tyler’s antics. Not that she wanted two menaces in her detention room, but still.

He seemed... alone.

She barely had time to process that thought before the door opened.

Greg.

Her face heated instantly.

He scanned the room with an easy smirk, then shot a very specific grin in her direction.

"Hey," he said smoothly. "Figured I’d find you here."

Her brain short-circuited.

"Ahah, yeah," she laughed. Stupidly.

Oh, I’m fucked.

Greg strode toward her, sliding some papers onto her desk. He leaned in way too close, his voice dropping.

"You forgot this after the meeting." A wink.

She melted. "Thanks."

And then he was gone. Marie took a second to collect herself. Straightened her papers. Exhaled.

Then— a feeling.

She looked up.

Josh was staring at her. Weirdly.

And Tyler? Tyler was grinning.

Marie immediately buried herself in her papers.

There was no way he’d have the nerve to say something to a teacher , right?

…Right?

Marie had an hour to kill between classes.

The hallways were empty, quiet. She wandered aimlessly, her mind already drifting to coffee and the stack of ungraded papers waiting on her desk.

Then she heard it. A sniffle. Soft, muffled. Coming from the bathroom.

She paused. A kid, skipping class?

Marie frowned and pushed the door open.

Silence.

Whoever was inside had heard her. Had stopped on purpose.There was only one closed stall.

She knocked. Not aggressively, but firm enough to say I know you’re in there.

"Come on, open up," she sighed.

A long beat of silence.

Then—

"Mrs. Constantin?"

The voice was quiet. Unsure.

But she recognized it.

"Dun?" She straightened, her exhaustion vanishing. "Are you okay?"

Another silence. Heavier, crushing.

And then the lock clicked.

The door creaked open.

Josh sat on the closed toilet lid, hunched over his backpack, his face blotchy and streaked with dried tears. His hands clutched the fabric so tightly his knuckles were white.

And there, scrawled across the front in thick, angry marker—

"FAG."

Marie’s stomach twisted.

For a moment, her mind warred between two instincts:

1. Comfort the poor kid.
2. Hunt down the asshole who did this and shove them into a locker.

Since option two wasn’t technically on the table, she swallowed her fury and focused on Josh. She reached into her pocket, fishing out a crumpled tissue, and held it out.

He didn’t take it at first. Just stared at the floor.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

Josh shook his head. "It doesn’t matter." His voice was wrecked, hoarse from crying.

"It does." Her voice sharpened, a rare edge slipping in. "This is not okay. The person who did this—"

"I don’t know who it is."

His eyes flicked up to hers. He was lying.

Marie felt her jaw tighten.

"Josh—"

"I don’t want your help." His voice cracked as he snapped, shoving his face into his hands.

Marie wanted to hold him. To wrap him in something warm and safe and make whatever he was afraid of disappear .

Because Josh Dun was terrified .

A thought struck her, sharp and sudden.

"Why did you trash the music room?"

Josh’s entire body stiffened. His lips pressed into a thin line. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

That was an answer in itself.

Marie’s heart pounded. It’s connected. She didn’t know how yet, but she needed to.

She softened her voice. "I won’t be mad, Dun. I’m not going to do anything. But you can talk to me."

Josh exhaled slowly. He looked... tired . Like carrying this weight had worn him down to nothing.

Finally, he spoke.

"I... I knew I’d get in trouble for it." His voice was barely above a whisper. "At least two weeks of detention."

Marie’s stomach twisted.

"And that gives me a reason to avoid them."

Her breath caught.

Oh.

He chose detention. He deliberately wrecked the music room to trap himself in something safer.

Her fingers curled into a fist at her side.

Detention shouldn’t be the safest place for a kid.

That was so fucked up.

"Okay." It was all she could manage.

Josh’s eyes flickered with something desperate. "Please don’t make a report."

Marie hesitated. She should . She should walk straight to the principal’s office, demand to know who was behind this. But Josh was begging her. And right now? Right now, he needed to feel safe .

"I won’t." The words left her before she could think better of it.

A bad decision. A reckless one. But one she’d make again in a heartbeat.

Still, she knew the truth.

A teacher wouldn’t save a kid like Josh.

But a friend might.

Her mind snapped to Tyler. Loud-mouthed, relentless, impossible to ignore. If there was one person who could pull Josh out of his shell, who could give him a reason to stay in the world instead of just avoiding it…

It was him.

Marie exhaled.

Okay. She had a plan. Kind of.

The moment she unlocked the music room and stepped inside, Josh and Tyler on her heels, Marie thought: No going back now.

The air smelled faintly of old wood and brass, with a sharp note of cleaning supplies. Sunlight streamed through dust-speckled windows, casting long shadows across the instruments.

Tyler practically vibrated with excitement. Josh lingered near the door, gripping the strap of his backpack like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Nothing new there.

Marie clapped her hands together. “Alright. We’re stuck with each other for a while, so I found something useful for you two to do with your free time .”

Tyler and Josh both looked at her, surprised. She exhaled.

“You’re going to write a song.”

Josh’s mouth fell open. Tyler let out a sharp gasp, then nearly jumped out of his skin.

“I have so many ideas,” he beamed .

Marie scoffed. “I bet you do, Joseph. But I’m serious. No shenanigans, no pointless chit-chat. You’re really working on this, got it ?”

Tyler nodded eagerly, already brimming with enthusiasm. Josh, on the other hand, looked pinned to the floor—unsure, hesitant, like this was a trap he hadn’t figured out yet.

Marie softened. “Do you both agree?”

Josh looked at her. Then at Tyler, who was practically buzzing. His fingers curled against his backpack strap, knuckles white. Marie could see the thoughts running behind his eyes—Do I really want to do this? Can I even do this?

Slowly, he nodded.

And Tyler didn’t need a second more—he grabbed Josh’s hand and yanked him toward the drum set.

“Come on, man, you gotta show me what you can do!”

Josh let out a small, startled noise as he stumbled forward, but he didn’t pull away.

Marie watched them go, an unexpected warmth settling in her chest.

Detention was about to get a hell of a lot louder. And maybe harder to focus on grading papers.

But something was happening. Something good , she hoped.

Marie could see the change immediately.

Tyler clung to Josh’s arm even outside of detention , talking animatedly, barely pausing for breath. Josh, who had once shrunk away from attention, now lit up in his presence, listening intently, nodding along to his ideas.

And then there was the hand-holding.

It happened a lot . More than it should have, if they were just friends. Like right now—Josh had no reason to be guiding Tyler’s hand over the drums, because she knew Tyler wasn’t that clueless. But there he was, grinning as Josh directed his fingers, their shoulders brushing, their heads tilting too close.

Tyler giggled. High, bright, unguarded.

Marie tried not to care. It wasn’t her business.

But she did.

Because—
At least she wasn’t finding Josh crying in a bathroom anymore.
At least Tyler wasn’t throwing tantrums to escape detention.
At least they both had this . Whatever this was.

She let the moment linger. Then—

"Nah, Mrs. Constantin won’t say anything,” Tyler snickered, “she’s too busy dreaming about Mr. Evans."

Marie snapped out of her thoughts so fast her pen nearly slipped.

Josh elbowed Tyler. "Dude, stop ."

It should’ve been an easy joke to ignore. It was just Tyler being Tyler—pushing, testing. But something about it crawled under her skin, making her grip her pen a little tighter.

Marie exhaled through her nose. "I'm not too busy to give you homework, Joseph ."

Tyler beamed , like he was waiting for a confession. His eyes were bright with mischief, daring her to react. She lifted a brow, unimpressed.

"I'm not hearing a lot of music," she said flatly, going back to her papers.

Tyler sighed dramatically . "What? No tragic love story?"

Josh sniffled a quiet laugh and elbowed him again. This time, Tyler didn’t retaliate—just turned toward Josh, expression softening.

Josh leaned in, whispering something she couldn’t catch. Tyler’s entire face lit up .

A second later, Josh pulled out his iPod, slid an earbud into Tyler’s ear. And just like that, Marie ceased to exist.

They huddled close, heads tilted toward the music, shoulders pressed together. Whatever song was playing had absorbed them completely.

Marie watched for a moment longer, then muttered under her breath, " Focus on your own love story, Joseph ."

Marie opened the classroom, bracing herself for the usual jab from Tyler and the quiet, hesitant smile from Josh.

But the room was empty.

She frowned. It wasn’t like them to be late—especially not Josh. Her eyes swept over the instruments, as if they could somehow be hiding .

Nothing.

Had she been too nice? Had they decided detention was optional now?

She was already squaring her shoulders, ready to storm back to the teachers’ lounge and double their detention time, when—

Bang.

The door burst open.

Josh stormed in first, his hands flailing, face twisted somewhere between fury and distress. Tyler was right behind him, moving with that same reckless, unbothered energy—except this time, he had blood dripping from his nose.

Marie’s breath caught.

"You shouldn't have done that!" Josh practically shouted , voice trembling.

Tyler huffed, swiping the back of his hand across his face. "Well, they shouldn't have called you that."

Josh spun on him. "You're just going to make things worse!"

Tyler shrugged. "No, because now I'm gonna protect you."

Josh’s face turned red. "I don’t want your protection!" His voice cracked at the end, louder than Marie had ever heard it.

Tyler flinched. Just barely.

Then he squared his jaw, brushed past Josh with a deliberate knock of his shoulder, and dropped into a desk with a loud thud .

Josh was still standing there, breathing hard, fists clenched at his sides. His eyes flicked to Marie’s.

"Mrs. Constantin," he muttered, stiffly nodding at her like he expected her to pretend none of it had happened.

Tyler, for once, was silent. His eyes were locked on his own hands.

Marie inhaled, steadying herself. You can handle this.

"What happened?" she asked.

Josh turned away. "Doesn’t matter."

She tightened her jaw. Turned to Tyler. " Joseph, what happened?"

Tyler let out a bitter laugh. "Haven’t you heard? Doesn’t matter."

"Lose the attitude . " Her voice came sharper than she intended. "I need to make a report."

Josh’s head snapped back toward her, eyes wild. "You promised you wouldn’t!"

Tyler’s gaze whipped up, narrowing. "Wait—you promised? What, you’re just gonna let those pieces of shit off the hook?" His chair scraped as he shot to his feet.

Marie’s heart pounded. This was getting out of hand.

She opened her mouth—but Josh spoke first.

"I asked her to."

Tyler froze. His face shifted, something breaking open behind his eyes. "Wait... it's not the first time?"

Silence.

Josh bit his lip, looking anywhere but at Tyler. His lower lip quivered.

Marie exhaled slowly. She should say something. But this wasn’t something they trained teachers for. The school’s protocol said to report it, separate the kids, send them to counseling —but she knew how that played out.

She knew what happened to kids like Josh. The ones who had no backup.

Josh didn’t need a teacher.
He needed Tyler .

Marie cleared her throat. "I’m going to make some copies."

Neither of them looked at her as she slowly stepped toward the door.

She didn’t go far. Just leaned against the wall outside, listening.

Hoping.

She didn't want to eavesdrop. But she also didn't trust them alone. They were both hurting, reeling from emotions too big for their age, too tangled for a single conversation to fix.

Inside, something shuffled. Then—

A sob.

Not just any sob. A raw, ugly, gut-wrenching sound, quickly muffled by fabric.

Marie squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t go in. Don’t go in. Tyler was in there. Tyler would handle it. Let him.

A long silence. Then, a quiet, broken voice—

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

The words were muffled, barely understandable through the door. Another beat. A response she couldn’t hear.

Then Tyler again, his voice stronger now, determined:

"I would never pity you, Josh. Or hate you for just being who you truly are."

Another sob. Something shifting.

"Dude, I would fight anyone over you."

A sharp, broken laugh. More shuffling.

Marie pressed her hand against the wall, exhaling slowly. Something was changing in there.

And then—

Thud.

A sharp clatter , a hissing “Shit—sorry—” , and a yelp.

Marie’s eyebrows lifted. Okay. That’s my cue.

She breathed in. Breathed out. And stepped inside.

And, oh.

Okay.

She got it now.

Because Josh was biting his lip, trying way too hard to hide a smile. And Tyler? Tyler was very red in the face, staring at the ground like it had personally betrayed him.

Her gaze flicked between them. The tension. The awkwardness. The undeniable shift .

Right. Guess the love story was moving forward.

She swallowed her own grin and casually crossed her arms. “So… something I should know?”

Tyler snapped his head up, eyes wide. “ No! ”

Josh elbowed him. Hard.

And Marie decided, yeah.

She was definitely not writing a report about this.

"Hey, you need to separate Joseph and Dun during detention."

Marie blinked up at Daniel, the PE teacher. She stared at him, certain she’d misheard.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Daniel folded his arms. “I found them kissing under the bleachers.” His tone was indignant , like he’d caught them committing a crime.

Marie nearly laughed. Of course, they were.

The thought hit her immediately after : I really need to get a life. When the most exciting part of her day was the slow-burn romance of her two detention kids, that was a problem.

Still, she just smirked. "Well, they’re teenagers . That’s what teenagers do. What’s your point?"

Daniel’s expression darkened. "My point is that they can't just do that in public. It’s inappropriate."

Marie’s smirk faded. Something in his tone sent a cold prickling sensation up her spine.

He wasn’t just talking about PDA.

She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay calm. "They have every right to be together, Daniel. They’re not doing anything wrong." She clicked her pen, ready to return to her paperwork. " And they aren’t cuddling and kissing in detention, so I don’t see the issue."

Daniel took a step closer. "No, it’s not right."

Marie stilled.

"They need to understand they can’t just impose this on everyone around them," he said.

Her grip on the pen tightened .

There it was. The unspoken disgust in his voice.

She forced herself to breathe, keeping her voice even. “I won’t separate them.”

"You should."

"I won’t. ”

Daniel’s jaw clenched.

"Fine," he said coldly. "I’ll talk to the principal. He’ll take the necessary measures."

And then he walked out.

Marie sat frozen, the words necessary measures slithering down her spine like ice.

Shit.

Josh and Tyler were in danger now. And it was her fault.

Marie got to the classroom before the boys, sitting on the edge of a desk, rehearsing.

How do you tell two kids who just found happiness that someone wants to rip it away?

She’d gone over the words a dozen times. And each time, they sounded worse.

The door swung open, and she saw them before she heard them—hands intertwined, laughing about something, their faces brighter than she’d ever seen them.

And she wanted to die.

Because this was going to break them.

They greeted her, their fingers unlacing as they settled into their usual seats. It was barely detention anymore—more like an after-school music session.

Marie gripped the edge of the desk.

"You have to tell them."

"I need to talk to you."

The shift was immediate. Both boys snapped to attention, the lightheartedness draining from the room. Josh looked nervous, already gearing up to apologize for something he hadn’t done.

"Did we do something?" he asked.

"No, no," she reassured quickly, then sighed.

"We had a… discussion with a teacher. About you."

Josh’s shoulders tensed. Tyler’s jaw set.

"About… PDA," she continued carefully.

Tyler shot up immediately. "Hold on. Jess and Karl have their tongues down each other’s throats every five minutes and no one says shit!"

Marie lifted a hand. "Let me finish."

Both boys stilled. She gripped the desk harder.

"They asked me to separate you in detention."

Josh’s eyes widened. Tyler’s mouth dropped open.

"I refused," she added quickly.

They both looked shocked.

"But he said he’d go to the principal," she admitted. "So I wanted to give you a heads-up. Maybe… slow down on the PDA for now. I’ll try to talk to the principal. Hopefully he’s not a prick too. "

Tyler exhaled sharply. "It’s Mr. Green, right?"

Marie froze.

She hadn’t said Daniel’s name.

And Tyler already knew.

"That’s not fucking fair!" Tyler exploded, slamming his hands on the desk. "He’s an asshole!"

"Tyler," Marie warned.

But then—

"Maybe we should just stop."

Josh’s voice was quiet.

Tyler whipped around. " What? "

Josh wasn’t looking at him. He was staring at the floor, hands clasped together, shoulders curled in.

"It’d be easier," he murmured.

Tyler’s expression cracked. "Josh, no—"

"If we’re not together, you’ll stay out of trouble," Josh said, his voice gaining urgency. "Mrs. Constantin won’t have to talk to the principal. And we’ll be gone soon anyway."

Tyler staggered back.

Josh was already letting go.

"No," Tyler said firmly. "No, we can’t just—just let them win!"

"It’s not about winning."

"It is! " Tyler snapped. "They want us to disappear, Josh! They want us to be too scared to be seen together! You can’t just let them—"

"Why not?" Josh cut in.

Tyler’s chest was heaving. Josh’s eyes were pleading.

"Why not?" Josh repeated, voice breaking. "It’s the truth."

"Don’t say that," Tyler whispered.

"Why?"

"Because—"

He choked.

And then, before he could stop himself—

"Because I love you!"

The words crashed into the room.

Josh’s mouth fell open. Marie froze.

Tyler stood there, breathing hard, like he’d been punched.

Josh stared.

And then—his lip quirked. Just the faintest, tiniest smile.

Marie suddenly felt very, very out of place.

"I really shouldn’t be here right now."

Tyler wasn’t done.

He doubled down—gripping Josh’s hand tighter, leaning in just enough to be dangerously close.

"You don’t have to say anything yet. It’s soon. Too soon. Maybe I should shut up."

Then—

"But… I really think I could follow you to the end of the world."

Jesus flying fuck. How the hell was a seventeen-year-old this smooth?

Josh was gone.

Absolutely swooning.

His cheeks flushed pink, his mouth opened just slightly, like he wanted to say something but had completely forgotten how. The tension from a minute ago? Obliterated.

If it weren’t for their actual problem , Marie would’ve walked right out and let them have their damn moment.

Instead, she cleared her throat.

The sound cut through whatever romantic haze had swallowed them whole. They both flinched, snapping their heads toward her like they’d forgotten she existed.

Oh my God.

"Yeah, hey. Hi. Still here," she said, crossing her arms. "And we still have a situation to deal with. So—what do you want to do?"

Josh blinked fast, like trying to kick-start his brain again.

Then, finally, he swallowed, squared his shoulders, and—

"We’re not backing down."

His voice wasn’t steady. But it was firm.

Tyler’s smile exploded, beaming like Josh had just given him the moon. His hand tightened around Josh’s, locking them together.

"Yeah," he agreed. "We’ve got it, Miss. You don’t need to do anything."

Marie squinted.

"You sure?"

Tyler’s grin turned sharp.

Oh no.

That was a shit-eating grin. That was a things-are-about-to-go-down grin.

"We’re sure," he said, far too casually.

Marie narrowed her eyes.

" Tyler. "

He just winked.

And that was when she knew. She was about to get a headache.

She should have known. She should have known Tyler wouldn’t just pull some dumb prank. She should have known he’d go for blood.

But this? This wasn’t just revenge.

This was a reckoning.

When she stepped into the hallway, the first thing she saw were the papers. Pages and pages of printed-out screenshots—some stapled to the bulletin board, others taped along the walls, a few scattered on the floor like fallen leaves.

Her stomach twisted before she even read them.

But then—

Then she saw the names. She knew these girls.

Her breath came shallow. Her fingers curled, trembling, as she skimmed the texts. Inappropriate. Predatory. Daniel’s name at the top of each thread.

The noise around her barely registered at first.

"Did you see this?"
"Holy shit, is this real?"
"I always knew something was off about him."
"If this is fake, someone’s getting expelled—"
"Fake?! Look at that. He should be in jail."

Oh yeah. They did a damn good job.

And Daniel? Nowhere in sight.

She inhaled sharply, turned on her heel, and walked straight to the corner store.

When she stepped into the detention room, they were already there. They stopped talking the second she entered.

Tyler’s eyes flicked to Josh. Josh straightened in his chair, bracing for impact.

Marie didn’t say anything.

She reached into her bag. And slid a pack of Oreos across the desk.

"Enjoy."

Josh bit his lip, a slow, hesitant grin creeping onto his face. Tyler? Full-on beaming. Like the cat who got the cream.

And honestly?

Maybe he did.

Marie had thought things were finally okay.

The detentions were almost over. Three days left.

Josh had found someone who made him feel safe. Tyler had found someone who made him feel seen.
And Marie?

She was fine.

She was perfectly content watching them play the same riff over and over, making sure it was just right.

She was content when Tyler shared lyrics, his voice quieter, a little nervous.
She was content when Josh laughed louder than she had ever heard before.

Everything was okay.

Until it wasn’t. Until she walked into the teacher’s lounge, grabbed a stack of papers—

—and saw it.

A cream-colored wedding invitation. Greg’s name. His fiancée’s name. Six years together.

She didn’t even know he had a girlfriend.

Her vision blurred. A high-pitched ringing flooded her ears.

She wouldn’t have let him—
She wouldn’t have—
She would have shut it down.

But now?

Now it was too late. Now the entire hallway was staring at her. Their voices felt like needles in her skin.

"Did you hear?"
"She was with him this whole time?"
"God, that’s so messed up—"
"She had to have known, right?"
"She acts so high and mighty—"

Marie’s breath hitched.

Her lungs refused to expand.

Her vision tunneled.

And suddenly—

She was standing in the music room. Josh and Tyler were staring at her. And she had no idea how she got there.

“Miss?” Josh’s voice was gentle.

Tyler wasn’t smiling. She tried to say something. Tried to pull herself together.But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Because Greg had sat across from her in the teacher’s lounge, drinking his coffee, like nothing happened.

Like he hadn’t cheated on his fiancée with her.

Like she was nothing.

And she was about to fall apart in front of these two kids who had already been through enough.

"I'm okay," she uttered, her voice strained, fragile, a thread ready to snap.

Tyler immediately scoffed, arms crossing over his chest.

"You're not so good at lying," he said, tilting his head.

Marie groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. A string of French swears slipped past her lips. Did he ever shut up?

"This isn't fair, what he did," Tyler pushed, his voice sharper now. Pushing. Pushing.

Her breath hitched.

"He’s really a piece of shit," he continued. "I can't believe he's getting married after—"

"It's enough!"

Her own voice startled her. The words cracked like a whip in the small room.

Josh flinched. Visibly. Tyler stepped back.

For the first time since she met them, they looked afraid of her.

Marie swallowed, bile rising in her throat. No. No, no, no.

She should reign it in. She should apologize. But then Tyler's face twisted in disgust.

"Did you know?" he asked, his voice dropping, accusing. "Did you know about her and still—?"

He grimaced, like she was something rotten.

Like she wasn’t already drowning in this.

Like she hadn’t already spent the last hour, the last day, the last year wondering what it meant. Wondering if she had ever meant anything at all.

"I don't want to hear you anymore," she snapped.

It wasn’t cold.

It wasn’t sharp.

It was pleading.

Tyler's mouth opened like he wanted to argue. Josh was already sitting down, silent. They both followed her order.

And Marie—Marie felt like she was about to throw up.

Her head was spinning. The walls felt too close.

And all she could hear was Greg’s voice, calm, smooth, unbothered, like it had all been nothing.

Nothing at all.

The tic, tic of the clock was deafening.

Josh was barely breathing. He was still in that way people get when they’re hoping to disappear. Avoiding. Shrinking.

She did that.

And Tyler—Tyler, who had trusted her, who had looked at her like she was on their side—now saw her as nothing more than some pathetic woman with no values.

Somehow, that was worse than the rest of it.

Because these kids? They were going places. They didn’t need her to save them—they just needed someone to stand beside them. To be a hand on their back, pushing them higher.

She had hoped she was that person.

Now? It was over.

It shouldn’t get to her. It shouldn’t.

In a few months, they’d be gone—scattered across the country, universities, jobs, new lives. They’d forget.

She wouldn’t.

She curled her fingers into her palms, forced a breath into her lungs. She needed to fix this.

"I'm sorry, boys," she said, and her voice broke.

Josh flinched.

Tyler’s arms stayed crossed, his expression closed off, unreadable.

Marie swallowed, forcing herself to keep looking at them. She wouldn’t hide. Wouldn’t look away.

"I didn't mean to yell at you," she admitted, voice low. "You did nothing wrong."

Josh’s shoulders twitched, like he was unsure whether or not to believe her.

Marie pushed on. "What happened between me and—Mr. Evans is mine to deal with. I'd prefer if we didn't talk about it."

She met Tyler’s eyes when she said it.

Tyler shrugged, casual, but his jaw was tight.

"I still think he's an asshole," he muttered.

Marie should have chastised him for the language.

She didn’t. Because he was right.

"You didn’t deserve that."

She blinked.

Josh was still uneasy, shifting in his seat, but he said it anyway.

And Marie—Marie felt her throat go tight.

She exhaled slowly. "Thanks, boys. Let’s not talk about it anymore," she murmured. "Just—go back to your music."

Josh hesitated.Tyler didn’t move. Neither of them picked up their instruments.

But no one said anything else.

And Marie—Marie forced a smile that she knew, without a doubt, neither of them believed.

Life had a weird way of repeating itself, Marie thought as she stepped into the school that morning.

There was a buzz in the air—low, electric. The kind of hushed excitement that meant something had happened. Something big.

She followed the murmur of voices down the hall. And then—

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Greg’s classroom was a disaster.

Desks were drilled into the walls at odd angles, some of them flipped entirely. Patches of random, chaotic paint splatters covered the whiteboards and floors. And the coup de grâce—

"CHEATER."

Spray-painted in bold, black letters, huge across the back wall. Unmistakable.

Her stomach dropped.

Oh, merde.

This was them. She knew it before she even saw him.

Her eyes snapped up, scanning the crowd—and there he was.

Josh.

Standing a little too still. Trying a little too hard to blend in.

Their eyes met.

He stiffened.

And then—he bolted.

Marie’s feet were moving before she could think, shoving past students, her heart hammering as she chased after him. Because she knew where he was going.

Tyler.

Of course it was them. Of course. Those rascals. Those stupid, reckless, too-in-love-for-their-own-good kids.

God, they were either going places or prison at this rate.

And right now? They were going to get thrown out of school if she didn’t stop them first.

Marie found them in the music room.

Josh was talking fast, hands moving animatedly, probably recounting everything that had gone down in the hallway. Tyler was grinning, pleased as hell, but Josh—Josh had his hand clutched around Tyler’s, his shoulders just a little too tense.

She beelined for them, her hands twitching at her sides. She wanted to shake them both. Maybe scream. Maybe hug them for being such reckless, loyal little shits.

“Is this your idea of staying out of trouble?!”

They both turned at her voice.

Tyler had the audacity to smirk. Josh, meanwhile, squeezed Tyler’s hand tighter, like he was holding his breath.

He knew.
He understood the consequences better than Tyler did.

"He had it coming," Tyler shrugged.

Marie clenched her teeth, pressing her lips together before she said something she’d regret. Because fuck. She wanted to be mad. But part of her—some deep, dark, vengeful part—was satisfied.

Greg deserved to have his classroom trashed. He deserved to have his reputation shredded like he’d shredded hers.

But that didn’t change the fact that these two idiots had just put their entire futures on the line.

"That is not okay, do you hear me?" Her voice wavered—too high, too raw. "You could be expelled for this. You could lose any chance at a university scholarship. Do you get that?"

Josh shrugged. “We’re not going to college anyway.”

Marie’s breath caught.

When the hell had he—Josh, cautious, careful, anxious Josh—gotten so bold ?

Tyler beamed, squeezing his hand like he’d just won the lottery. “Exactly! We’re just gonna make music!”

Her mouth fell open.Her hand shot to her temples.

Had she—had she accidentally derailed them completely? Was this her doing?

Doing music for fun with your boyfriend was one thing. Throwing your entire future away to chase a dream that almost no one made a reality? That was insane.

“That’s not—” she sucked in a sharp breath, forcing herself to focus. “Do you realize what you just did? This isn’t a game, this is real. It’s going to follow you.”

They didn’t back down.
Instead, they huddled closer, standing their ground like soldiers bracing for a storm.

She opened her mouth to push harder—

The door slammed open.

"You two! Principal’s office. Now."

Marie’s blood turned to ice.

Greg stood in the doorway, eyes burning as they locked onto Josh and Tyler, his mouth curled into a sneer. Like they were dangerous. Like they were criminals.

His gaze flicked to Marie. Assessing. Calculating.

Then—he smiled. A tight, knowing, patronizing thing.

"Good, you were already reprimanding them," he said, nodding approvingly.

Marie’s stomach churned.

Greg turned back to Josh and Tyler, waving a hand like he was scolding toddlers. “See what you did to your teacher? She’s upset. This is what happens when you spread baseless rumors—when you make up lies just to ruin someone’s reputation.”

Marie stared at him.
Tyler’s brows furrowed. Josh stiffened.

Was he—

Was he really trying to spin this?

The audacity.

Tyler scoffed. “What the fuck?”

Marie snapped back to reality. She threw an arm out in front of them, voice sharp.

“They didn’t do anything.”

Tyler made a noise of protest, but she didn’t look at him. Didn’t dare.

She turned to Greg, eyes dark. “I did.”

Silence.

Greg blinked. Then, he scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

Marie’s pulse roared in her ears. She couldn’t back down now.

"Stop it." Her voice was low. Dangerous. "We both know you're a cheater. You got what you deserved. They had nothing to do with it."

Greg’s jaw ticked. His nostrils flared.

"Stop lying."

"Look who's talking," Tyler muttered.

Marie exhaled through her nose.

God, she’d be so grateful if Tyler could learn to shut the fuck up. But that just wasn’t in his nature, was it?

Marie didn’t flinch. “You wanted to go to the principal’s office? Let’s go, then.”

She stepped forward, steady. Unwavering. “But Tyler and Josh? They had nothing to do with it.”

Greg blinked. His mouth pressed into a tight, displeased line. Marie didn’t care. She was putting her foot down. They were not going to pay for this.

Not when Josh had finally learned to hold his head high.
Not when Tyler believed in his dream so much he was willing to throw everything away for it.

Because this—this trust, this love, at this age?
It could make all the difference.

Maybe they wouldn’t last. Maybe they’d grow apart. But one day, years from now, they would look back and remember what it was like—
To be seen.
To be understood.
To have someone standing at your side, no matter what.

She’d make damn sure they got to keep that.

Greg’s jaw clenched. His eyes flickered with something dangerous.

“You’re gonna get fired for this.”

Behind her, Josh gasped. Tyler shifted—she didn’t have to look to know he was about to run his mouth. Probably step in like he was the adult here.

She beat him to it. Marie took a single step forward. Her voice was calm. Measured. Lethal.

“No. Not for that.”

She let the silence hang. Greg’s expression flickered. Smug, but—hesitant.

He tilted his head. Opened his mouth to say something—

Marie slapped him across the face.

The crack echoed through the room. Her palm stung. Greg stumbled back, eyes wide, stunned.

For the first time, he looked afraid.

Then—

Josh burst out laughing. Tyler doubled over, wheezing.

“Holy shit,” Tyler choked out between laughs.

Behind her, she heard the faintest—“Hell yeah.”

Marie smirked.

Yeah. That felt really good.

Marie never saw Josh or Tyler again after she was fired.

She didn’t know what happened to them.
Did they stay together? Did they go to college? Did they ever make music outside that tiny, dimly lit practice room?

Sometimes, she’d think about them.

She’d remember their snickering, the way they leaned into each other without even thinking.
She’d remember Josh in the bathroom, crying.
Tyler’s voice, shaking as he admitted he might have missed his shot at life.

She’d remember the whole damn thing. And she wouldn’t change a single moment of it.

Life had been kind to her. She liked to believe it had been kind to them, too.

She was folding laundry when she stepped into Anaëlle’s room—humming to herself, lost in old memories—
And then she froze. Her breath caught.

There, pinned between old band posters and magazine clippings, was a brand-new one.

Her eyes locked onto the two men in the image.

They were older now. Dressed in skeleton onesies, staring at the camera like they belonged there. But the moment she saw them, she knew.

Josh. Tyler.

What the hell?!

“Anaëlle?” Her voice wavered.

A groan. Footsteps shuffled closer.

“What?” Anaëlle leaned against the doorway, phone in hand, barely looking up.

Marie couldn’t tear her eyes from the poster.

“Who’s that?”

Anaëlle finally glanced up. She smirked. Rolled her eyes.

“It’s Twenty One Pilots.”

She said it like it was obvious.

Marie swallowed. “They call themselves Twenty One Pilots ?”

Anaëlle huffed. “Yeah, duh. There’s only two of them. Tyler Joseph is the singer and lyricist. Josh Dun is the drummer.”

She said it so casually. Like she wasn’t shattering Marie’s entire understanding of the universe. She looked at their faces again. Older, sharper—but still them.

The smirk on Tyler’s face. The quiet confidence in Josh’s stance.

They actually made it.They were on her daughter’s wall.

She blinked. Shook her head. “Could you… show me one of their songs?”

Anaëlle hesitated. “Do you actually care?”

Marie scoffed. “Of course I care. I’m your mom.”

She set the laundry basket down. Sat on the bed.

Anaëlle stared at her for a beat. Then sighed, pulling out her laptop. “Okay… this one’s my favorite.”

She clicked a song.

“Holding On to You.”

The room filled with music.

Marie listened.

It was them. Their voices, their energy—but bigger now. Bolder. She could still hear the kids they were, but—they weren’t kids anymore.

She leaned in. Watching the screen, her daughter’s face.

“…Are they married?” she asked.

Anaëlle frowned. “What? No. They have girlfriends. Why would you think they’re married?”

Marie let out a soft laugh. A little wistful.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

She’d thought maybe they had that high school sweetheart love story. But then again… maybe what they had was even better.

The screen faded to black. Silence settled.

Anaëlle turned, watching her. Waiting for judgment.

Marie didn’t speak. She just reached over and hugged her. Tight. Kissed the top of her head.

Anaëlle stiffened. “…What was that for?”

Marie pulled back, held her face.

“Ana’,” she said, voice gentle. “If you ever feel like you’re struggling, you can tell me, okay? You know that, right?”

Anaëlle blinked. Frowned. “I’m okay. It’s just a song.”

Marie nodded. “I know.”

But she squeezed her hand. And for the first time, Anaëlle squeezed back.