damaged kids. k.q/v.f

one

"watch it, freak!" tyler yelled, roughly shoving kellin onto the floor.

the tall boy winced at the sudden contact, but managed to roll his eyes at the dense jock.

he picked up his scattered books, making sure his solid black notebook was firm in his hand as he got up to face all 4 jocks.

"nice to see you too, asshole." kellin responded, his eyebrow raised as if he was better than the older boy.

he was, at least, according to him. you see, kellin believed he was far superior to everyone in his school. technically, yes, he is. his mindset is so much older than everyone else, making him wiser, smarter, and superior. mentally, anyways.

"asshole? it's like you're asking for the beating." josh said with an evil grin, making tyler throw his back in laughter.

kellin just shook his head, idiots, he thought. why did his mom have to send him to this private school? 1, he's not catholic. and 2, you'd think that the people there would be smarter than the students in your average high school.

"you know the drill, what do you want today? a swirlie or a beating?" tyler asked impatiently, loosening the black tie around his neck. 

since the boys attended a private school, they were required to wear uniforms.

kellin rolled his eyes. a swirlie would ruin his hair, meaning the 10 minutes he spent on it would go to waste. kellin wasn't one to waste time. a beating would mean bruises. bruises weren't too bad.

"beating. but let's go easy on me, boys. my mom almost saw a bruise last week." kellin said, placing his books and book bag on the floor, preparing for the punches.

i guess you could call kellin quinn 'weird'. he was just different, he didn't like anything new. he didn't have a phone, because he thought it would take away from the importance of life; living.

like any other teenager, he had posters of old and new rock and punk bands, most of them with crazy hair and black clothing. he had a record player, only listening to old music on the machine.

he wished he was born in the 80's, the prime of rock. but, oh well. as disappointing as it was to be born in a new age that only focused on social media, he was content with it.

tyler, josh, brendon, and patrick all cracked their knuckles, preparing for the  punches they were about to throw on the tall boy.

as kellin was being punched repeatedly, his mind drifted away. he taught himself to do that long ago. he thought about his   life before the private school his mom forced him to attend.

it was great. he lived in michigan, his favorite place in the whole wide world. he had tons of friends, and thats all he needed. after his fantastic 8th grade graduation, his mom packed everything and moved them to san diego. everyone was mean, and hated outcasts. kellin has hated california since he stepped foot in it.

"same time next week?" tyler asked with a grin, cleaning off his bloody knuckles. kellin just coughed in pain, making all four boys laugh, and leave the empty hallway, leaving a very bruised kellin quinn.

as the 4 boys were walking away, kellin muttered a "it's not like i have a choice," and wiped the blood off of his mouth.

thought the 4 boys spoke to kellin as if they were (kind of) 'friends', they never meant well.

kellin had tried many times before to skip his routinely meeting with tyler and the guys. they never ended well. once, he ended up in the hospital, so he stuck with just a light beating every week. after all, no one else in the school was weird. making kellin the primary target.