cue: confusion [IT FANFICTION]

why can't i listen to green day in peace :(

I spent the next art detention perching on the end of a stool, positioned as if I would have to leap up at any moment, reading over the script over and over. I was reading the words. (Not actually processing them, of course.) Instead, when I attempted saying them, albeit quietly, they either didn't come out or I barely formed them enough to string together a sentence.

I groaned, already regretting my decision.

My groan broke the silence hanging in the air with Stanley and I, and he let out a drawn out sigh, the last thing I wanted to hear. I pulled my headphones on with one swift motion, blocking out the sound of the dramatic bitch with Green Day in a very main character-esque move, knowing that blaring the music would not help my eardrums or Stanley's focus, and I reveled in that.

I pretended that I was sorting colored pencils and such before I realized he was trying to say something, so I ignored him like the confident asshole I am, spinning around on the stool to face away from him.

I didn't take note of him again until he tossed a brush in my direction, knocking against one of my shoes. I graced him with a glance, and he yanked off my headphones. "Hey, can you turn that down? I can literally hear that from the other side of the room."

I shrugged. "It's a perfectly g-g-good volume for m-me."

"Well, our friend group is supposed to be a democracy, not a dictatorship, right?"

"Well, you d-d-don't decide everything either, St-Stanley."

"Well, maybe that would lead to a b-b-b-b-better outcome than if you did."

"Well, f-fuck you!"

"Language!"

"Fuck, fuck, f-fuckity fuck sh-sh-shit."

"Shut up."

"M-make me. Hm? W-w-what are you g-gonna do?"

"Depends." He said in his sarcastic, bitchy voice. "What're you into?"

Before I could see what horrid things awaited, somebody in the doorway cleared their throat. Me and Stanley, both acting like we had been caught smoking drugs or something, looked up in surprise.

"Hey, freaks!" We both sighed in relief when we saw Richie. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "What are you bickering about this time?"

"What are you doing outside of lunch area?" The uptight bitch asked.

"C'mon, dude, I'm just a sexy tortured artist. Give me a break."

Eddie ran up beside him, his breathing irregular and panting with effort. "What the... fuck dude?"

"W-What were you d-d-doing, chasing Eddie around th-th-the school?"

"Yes, actually!"

"This... asshole... got my asthma acting up... AGAIN."

"You got your own asthma acting up. Not my fault you're obsessed with me."

Stanley let out a huff of slight disbelief, shaking his head and continuing to sweep.

I started to slip my headphones back on, but then Richie spoke. "Big Bill! Stoked for the audition today?"

"Th-Thrilled." I said blankly.

Stanley gave me a skeptical look and propped up his brush, looking interested.

"You should be! I know you're gonna crush it." Richie gave Stanley a wink. "Stan The Man here happens to be managing the production!"

"It's called being a stage manager, actually. And it's not like this is an uncommon thing for me." Stanley said, sounding unreasonably bitchy as usual.