Chapter 2: Welcome to Blackridge
He's also a singer.
He has his own YouTube channel, penname UniqueBeauty. He has hundreds of videos of himself singing on it. Many are from his time at Magnum, others are his own covers, some even have a few guests in the form as his friends. His brother has made an appearance even
Zack is a follower.
He's also has his own channel, under the name GoodguyBadboy. He has hundreds of his own videos of himself singing. Majority are ones he's taken during choir practice, others are just him. He plays all the music, sometimes the guitar, others the piano, even the violin and harmonica have made an appearance.
There may be a few fighting tutorials up there as well, along with self defense and a few cell phone videos of his fights at school.
Skyler is a follower.
Despite this fact, both don't really watch for the singing. Strange, I know, what else are they watching it for?
Well Zack, for one, can't take his eyes off what he is convinced is the greatest piece off ass to ever graze the planet. And those skin tight jeans he seems to always wear, are they painted on or something! God! And when he started coiffing his gorgeous chestnut hair off his face and away from his eyes, Zack started having problems down there. Still does, actually.
Honestly, he doesn't even remember if UniqueBeauty is a good singer or not. But damn is he a sexy human being.
Funny thing is, Skyler seems to have the same problem. Goodguybadboy sings? Really? He was here to lose himself in those warm honey depths right where his eyes should be. Imagine running his long fingers through those silky black curls. Maybe stare at that perfect ass in those black jeans that actually fit him well, something most teenage boys are incapable of finding. And yes, maybe those bad boy looks of his are sexy. Just a bit.
Though they announce their names at the beginning of every video, they never pick up on it, or the voice speaking. Kind of scary actually, but it is just a stranger on the internet. Harmless leering won't hurt anyone, right? Not like there are a lot of options in Ohio anyways.
Not like they'll ever actually meet or anything, right?
"I'm a Day," he whispers to himself, trying to fight the nerves bunching and twisting in his stomach. "No one pushes the Days around."
With a deep breath, he pushes the slightly rusty doors open and strides into the crowded hallways, his confident, I'm better than you all swagger making him a bit taller.
The noise changes from excited talking to whispers and stares, and Skyler feels a pang of regret in his chest. Maybe he shouldn't have made his walk so obvious. Perhaps he did go overboard with white skinny jeans with numerous zippers, knee length black boots with extra buckles, light blue button down, black vest with hanging chains, and black and white checkered bow tie. Most people didn't draw such immediate attention to themselves like this.
Squaring his jaw, he lifts his head higher and strides through the crowd of plastic people whispering his name. This is who he is. His individuality craves the spotlight, his talent yearns to be recognized. He's not going to hide who he is. Not for these people, not for anyone. Not even if that nonexistent God hands him Goodguybadboy in flesh and blood. No one.
But as he meets the gaze of some of the more bold students, he isn't surprised to see the eyes of many girls have gone glassy and dark. He smirks to himself, adding a little swing to his hips. A few girls actually swoon.
There's some things Skyler knows all too well about himself. He likes boys. Patti Lupone is his idol. Mint green and orange do not go well together with his skin tone. He has a rare and incredible voice.
He's pretty damn gorgeous for a man.
Years of receiving slips of paper with phone numbers he never calls anyways, comments on his YouTube videos, cat calls on the street, flirting in the coffee shop, and downright leering during a performance has all taught him that. Skyler Day is hot.
Shame majority of the time the male contributions are either through the screen or his friends trying to be supportive and encouraging.
No matter. He's here now, and if this can earn him a degree of respect, he'll take it. With a new confidence, he waltzes down the corridor, girls giggling to each other while their boyfriends shoot daggers his way with their eyes.
He reaches his locker, having already memorized his schedule. Last thing he wanted was to be was the stereotypical new kid with his eyes glued to a piece of paper, dependent on it and lost without it, sometimes even with. He starts pulling his books out of his satchel, his locker already decorated from the night before. He smiles at the smiling faces of his friends, missing them a bit. Reaching into his bag, he pulls out his hairspray to fix a stray piece he noticed came loose in his mirror.
And it's thanks to that mirror that after he puts the can back, he notices a large mass of red and white coming toward him, white styrofoam cups in their hands.
His stomach drops to his feet. Slushies. Nick warned him about this. Lucky for Skyler Day, he always comes prepared.
Whipping around, he pulls a rainbow umbrella from his bag and hides it behind his back, closing his locker as he stares down the jocks approaching him. The one in front is fat, with short cropped brown hair and muddy brown eyes. His sneer is ugly and doesn't help his complexion at all Skyler notices. The letterman jacket-clad boys walk up to Skyler, trapping him between them and the lockers behind him.
Keeping his head high, he raises a plucked eyebrow at their direction, making a show of looking around at his new acquaintances. Remaining his air of confidence, he asks snarkily, "Can I help you gentlemen with something?", his voice sneering slightly at the word gentlemen. The fat one in front smiles smugly, soon followed by the others. So he seems to be the leader. Great.
"Oh nothing," he says cheekily. "We just wanted to wish the new homo a welcome to Blackridge."
With that said, he hasn't even finished speaking before Skyler has unfurled the umbrella, curling into a ball on the ground so it covers all of him, as the jocks all hurl their fruity syrupy cups of ice at him. It isn't perfect, some still sneaks past and drips onto his boots and hair, but his outfit has survived the assault.
Smirking at them, he lifts a hand and parts them with it, strolling past as he shouts over his shoulder, "Why, thank you! It's wonderful here!" before disappearing around the corner for his first class, leaving fury in his place as it settles into the jocks. No one survives a Slushie attack here. No one.
Not even in the school for five minutes and already the jocks were trying to turn the kid into a rainbow? Who the fuck did they think they were? Just cause they were football players didn't mean they had the right to make kids life hell here. He's spent his entire Highschool life trying to get that point across in their thick skulls.
Well, looks like it's time for another lesson.
Dude, you gotta do something about this! Yeah he was smart and saved himself, so it's not so bad, but he's my brother dammit! I can't just let this go, they'll think they can do it again, and he might not be so lucky next time! They'll throw him in a dumpster next and I don't want to listen to his whining about ruined designer clothes for weeks if they do!
Patience my friend. Have you told the others?
Yeah, they know.
Then stick to the plan. I promise, they will pay for this.
The jock turns at his name, only to find himself held against the brick wall, an elbow shoved against his windpipe.
Brian. He shoulda known.
"What's your problem, fairy?" Michael sneers, his voice coming out strangled thanks to the pressure on his throat.
"My problem?" Zack demands angrily. "I'm not the one who organized a rainbow attack on the new kid for being new!" he snarls.
Michael frowns at him, his face starting to purple. "What's it to you, Brian?" he retorts.
"You know damn well what's it to me, dick!" Zack shouts back. "I need you Neanderthals to understand you don't have the right to treat kids this way just because they're what you consider 'lame'!" He emphasizes his point by pulling him back a little before slamming him back against the wall, emitting a choked gasp from the jock. "Not to mention he happens to be the brother of my good friend, our school's quarterback and lead male singer in our choir, one Mr. Nick James. And you see, family of my family is my family as well, you understand?" He demands, digging his elbow in a little further.
Michael is scared now, man, since he's about thisclose to passing out. "Yeah, yeah, I understand!" he chokes out, grasping at Zack's biceps desperately. With a satisfied smirk, Zack releases his hold on him and steps back, allowing the jock a gasp of air before harshly punching him in the gut. Michael's eyes grow huge as any air he could get leaves his body. He clutches at his stomach, falling to his knees and tears trickle out his eyes.
And then screams in pain as a savage kick is brought to his manhood. With a squeak, he falls to the side, his face scrunched in pain.
Zack hovers over him, a glare on his face. "Stay away from the new kid," he growls, then swiftly turns on his heel, leaving the jock there in the dust as the lunch bell signals the passing period.
"C'mon Skyler, you have to tryout for choir!" Nick whines to him during said lunch period. "You're super talented and I know you love it, we could really use your talent to bring us to Nationals this year!"
Skyler pretends to think about it as he chews his salad, teasing his step-brother some more. "I don't know, Nick," he draws out, holding back his smirk at the pleading look his brother is sending him. "Aren't you, like, the main male lead? And you've got plenty of girls, I doubt you need another," he adds with a roll of his eyes.
Nick's eyes harden as he looks square into Skyler's eyes. "You are not a girl," he whisper lowly. "Don't you dare let anyone tell you otherwise."
Skyler blinks in shock at his brother's intensity. He's always been protective, that's true, so it's actually kind of sweet, but seeing his easy going brother get so tense so fast let's him know something is up.
"Nick," he drags out slowly, his tone warning. "Is there something you need to tell me?"
Nick blushes and ducks his head, muttering something Skyler can't pick up. "I'm sorry Nick, what was that?" he asks sweetly.
Nick sighs guiltily. "The choir and I may have spray painted the locker room with rainbows as payback for attacking you this morning."
Skyler stares blankly at his brother, then blinks a few times. Suddenly he's laughing, his high pitch turning a few heads. "Oh my Gaga," he breathes, cheeks tinted red from laughter, "You didn't. Oh God tell me you didn't, I can't, I just can't," he breaks off, laughter overtaking him again.
Nick blushes and turns his head, muttering under his breath. When Skyler catches his breath he pulls his brother close in a hug, surprising the abnormally tall teenager. "Thank you, Nick," he mumbles against his chest. "That's very sweet of you to defend me."
Nick awkwardly wraps his arms around the older teen, shocked by Skyler's sudden show of PDA. "No problem, bro," he replies, just as the lunch bell rings for the next period.