Swapped (Maylor/Deacury)

An Effed Up Situation

"God, it was so slow, and it was getting even slower." Roger took a quick breather in the midst of his remark. He was getting sick of all these arguments they had almost every band practice, the thought of them not working out joining his mind. He'd never once seen a band fighting this much about such trivial matters, yet here they were. "You always try to play this like... I never..."

Freddie interrupted with his loud voice, trying to calm the other two down, yet even he didn't succeed on this mission. "Right! Take two!"

John was sat on his chair in the corner of the music classroom, his bass on his lap and watching in all delight. But when Roger raised his hand to smack the taller man on the face, he decided it was time to chime in himself, as he could usually calm the lot down. "You play the fucking twelve string." He ended with the slightest of a giggle, somehow lighting Freddie's ambience a bit.

"Take two." Freddie couldn't help but chuckle along behind the palm of his hand, hiding his rather remarkable teeth.

"NO! I won't follow you, Brian!" Roger raised his high-pitched voice, throwing his drumsticks in the luscious curls of the guitarist, who was mocking Roger whilst eyeing the two giggling boys snuggled on the couch.

Roger had enough. He turned around and dashed out the classroom, not daring to look back, nor even say anything else... He was completely done with the others, knowing their band would never work out like this.

Brian watched as the blonde tripped over his own foot but quickly speeded back up and rushed down the corridor. The slightest of guilt stirred in his stomach, a nasty, yet familiar feeling.

"Well," Freddie started, gaining most of Brian's attention. "Go after him then." Freddie rolled his eyes, waving his hands in such manner of showing Brian the way to the door.

Brian was about to obey, when the blonde came storming back into the room, looking red with fury. He glanced around the room, and his eyes fell on a salon table in front of Freddie and John.

"I can't believe none of you went after me." He grumbled, enragement evident in his cerulean eyes.

He reached his foot out to punt the salon table over, which he succeeded in, but he completely overlooked the antic vase settled on it. The vase fell off as well, shattering into a million pieces with the old dust rising in the air. All four started coughing with the dreadful amount of grime that had covered each of them. Racing their hands in front of their faces, they dashed out the room.

Roger felt the three pairs of eyes burning on his back. A wobbly grin curled his lips up when he turned around, facing the other three who were now furious. Roger really didn't see the vase, and therefor didn't allow them to judge him, but of course they did anyway. It always went the exact same way, his friends angered him, he did something stupid, they'd get into a fight, and then Roger did something even more stupid. He'd rather sink through the floor than continue listening to their cussing at him.

"Roger, I can't fucking believe how stupid you are." Brian scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "Mr. Beach always tells us how much that bloody vase means to him... His grandmother gave it to him or something. But that's besides the point, you just fucking ruined it... And covered us all in this grime; I'll have to shower for hours to get it out of my hair. And don't think I'm not gonna tell Miami... he deserves to know what you did to his vase."

If Miami liked that vase so much, why would he even bring it to school with him? There were plenty of kids even more stupid than Roger; he should've suspected it happening anytime soon. But somehow it hurt Roger to think Brian actually thought he was dumb, which ended in tears prickling in the crook of his eyes.