I'll Never Let You Win

10

I felt a hot burning sensation pound through my head. Someone had grabbed my hair, and was pulling me back towards the crowd of stupid fucks. I tried to get out of their grasp, but I couldn't. I was thrown down against the muddy grass, ruining my new jacket I'd been saving up for for months.

"What the hell are you on about, poor boy?' Tony sneered.

"Well do you want me to tell you why you told me I was a 'gay emo freak that sings' and I laughed and said it reminded me of him, or does he want to tell you?" I replied, shooting a look at a nervous looking Ashley who looked like his entire world just ended. He didn't reply. "Well then." I said, standing up. "Can I borrow someone's phone? I want to show you all something you should have known about a long time ago." I said, looking around. No one offered me their fancy smartphone, so I went over to Ashley and pulled his out of his hand, much to his protest. The whole lot were quiet now, anticipating what I was going to do. I googled 'Ashley Purdy', and the first ones that came up was him in his warpaint, either at a photoshoot or in a concert. I opened one up, making it bigger on the screen and turned it around to show the eagerly waiting audience.

"That's Ashley? He looks gayer than you!" Someone exclaimed.

"Believe me or don't believe me. He's in a band that I listen to. He performs shows that I go to. He sings. Just like me. But its not like you care when its anybody else, apart from me. Apart from the weedy emo kid who nobody likes, that gets ridiculed everyday and night by everyone they come across in life. Now if you don't mind, I have a lesson to get to."

"Uh Andy? We told reception you were ill and had to go home. Soz. Looks like you're stuck with us." Ashley said, pulling his phone out of my hands and pushing me back down to the floor. "Don't throw up on me this time." He told me, bending down. Tony and Alex quickly came and held my arms down to the ground with their feet, stopping me from going anywhere and almost breaking my wrists in the process.

Ashley was still leaning over me, and produced a black sharpie from his pocket. He pulled the lid off and came closer to my face, writing something on my forehead. How mature.