To be a Stone

Mr.Kian

Every footstep echoed through those dull halls.

Every light he passed under seemed to flicker with creeping dread.

The lockers around him slammed shut, the hollow hum that followed mixed in with the rumble of student murmur.

Absolutely nowhere in those cluttered halls was it rockin' and none of that school was rollin'. All Kian wanted to do was go home, smoke, and possibly try to write a new song.

Kian's fist smacked against his locker in a rhythm only he and his ex's knew, as it swiftly popped open, revealing the clutter of the school year. Papers crumpled up and shoved into the cubby with no room for order, a few abandoned pens and pencils, a mirror haphazardly hung, surrounded by pictures of Kian, his current girl, and his friends, as well as lines of scrapped lyric sheets taped to the red door.

He shoved his book bag into the chaos and yanked out an almost completely decimated folder and history textbook. Pages sticking out of both with torn and bent edges. The textbooks cover had almost been completely scratched off with pen marks covering the names after Kian's...

Kian Write Hale Ghost Spirit Vamp Rose Monarch SwallowTail Red ???

Kian's parents had graciously... "Gifted" him with no last name. "You should be able to choose your own path, my little red biirrrrd...You'll like, thank us somedayy..." He could almost hear his mothers slurred words as she explained why she and his father had chosen that for him for the hundredth time.

Be able to choose his own path his ass! He wanted to know now!! But none of it fit. He tried his parents last name but his father scolded him for it."You can't just, like, want our last name. You should totally choose your own..." He wanted to be a Hale. That was his family name, yet he wasn't allowed to use it!!

Kian sighed as he slammed the locker door shut and made his way down the dreary halls to Mr.Rickman, or Mr.Dickman's to be more accurate, classroom.

He opened the door just as the bell rang. Kian plopped down into his desk and dropped his book and folder on it before pulling his right leg up onto the top of his desk. He leaned back and threw his left arm over the metal bar connecting the chair to the desk and leaned back.

"Kian. Please get your leg off of your desk and sit up straight. You too Timothy. I don't care if you went to bed late last night, sit up." Kian glanced over to his friend who was sitting at the front corner of the room. Timothy Rand was slouched back, and very, very clearly high. He just grumbled something under his breath as he sat up and then leaned forwards into his hand, his black rimmed glasses falling down his nose ever so slightly.

"Alright class. Today we're going to be finishing our lessons on World War II. I know that it ended actually quite recently, barely even 30 years ago, but we still need to go over it. Because history forgotten is...?" He paused to allow the class to finish his boring mantra that he had started the year before.

"Repeated..." The class answered with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"Wonderful! So let's get started on what happened with Germanys forces, please grab your textbooks and open to chapter 7." Mr.Dickmans voice trailed off with Kians thoughts as he opened his textbook and pretended to look as if he was paying attention.

Maybe he could write a song about his parents and how much they get on his nerves... Write about their strange but intriguing obsessions... Sing about how they made his life just that much harder... Regale others with his twentieth century, first world woes...

He rested his head in his hand as he tangled his fingers in the short locks resting on his head. He regretted cutting his hair in an act of rebellion... Maybe he could write about that too... A handsome young man who's been held back twice, given no last name, cut his hair to rebel, and has the voice of Lucifer himself. Good and powerful enough to be sent to Hell...

One of the few Bible stories he'd heard over his time of being friends with Rand and trying to flirt with his mom. Red hair and big brown eyes... She'd make a good song too. Rand's mom has got it going on. Or something like that...

"Kian." His eyes darted up to meet Mr.Dickman's. "Would you answer this question for me?" His dark scowl matched that of the blackboard. Dickman tapped his chalk to the question he had scrawled on the board."It's the easiest one yet."

When did WWII end?

Kian's mind blanked. He hadn't been paying attention at all and he didn't care whatsoever about any war dates."Uhh... 19..." He glanced around the room before looking down at his book. He glued his eyes to the first date he saw."1945?" Mr.Dickman looked pleased for a split second before his scowl returned to his face.

"Month?" Kian's heart raced as he skimmed the page, he actually almost liked Mr.Dickman as a teacher, but he definitely didn't want to have to repeat his class for a third time."Well, Mr.Kian?"

"Uhmmm..." Better a guess than to look like an idiot. "Sep...September? 3rd?"

"Close. September 2nd." He turned back around to face the board as he erased his question and started to write something else, explaining about a treaty or something. Kian let out a sigh of relief as he slid his fingers over the shiny textbook page.

Mr.Kian? That was all he could focus on from that. Mr.Kian. Sounds stupid. He needed to find a last name and fast. If he graduated next year as "Mr.Kian" or "Just Kian" he was going to jab his own eyes out and just go ahead and live in his parents attic. No one famous has only one, normal person, name.

Just Kian.

Gross.