Spencer looked at himself in the mirror: brown hair, stupid glasses, freckles on his nose; he looked completely ordinary, except for is eyes. Yep his eyes were the only thing that stood out on him, his stupid hazel-green eyes. Yes, according to the internet green eyes were the rarest eye colour in the world, and he should feel special, but he hated them.

"Spencer, hurry up, you're not the only one that uses a bathroom y'know," a voice said from behind the door, interrupting his thoughts. He sighed, splashing water on his face.

Mornings were always like this, they were always annoying. Spencer was always the first one up, but his stupid brain kept him in the bathroom for hours, thinking about unimportant things. By now it was routine, he'd wake up and go for a wizz, and he'd stay there until Jessica came banging on the door. He'd look at his stupid face and think of how stupid he was. Maybe that's why he always went to school in a bad mood.

He'd open the bathroom door only to be met with angry green eyes, almost identical to his own- if eyes weren't already identical- the two of them would glare at each other until Jessica decided to mutter something about him needing a girlfriend, and then push past him.

It happened everyday, he was beginning to tire of it. He opened the bathroom door, but this time he walked right past Jessica, back into his own room; he didn't want to deal with this, not today at least.

He glanced around the room and noticed everything that was always there, but never really paid attention to; the red walls that were almost completely hidden behind movie posters, a shelf in the left corner filled with movies, and a shelf in the right filled with everything else- books, videos games, those dolls that Jessica swore were dolls, but were actually action figures, and countless pieces of paper. He glanced to his desk; very plain and wooden with an equally plain lamp sitting on top, and his laptop, which had a collection of stickers stuck on random places.

He wondered. He wondered if those jerks at school were right, he was going to be 18 soon, but his room still looked vaguely similar to the way it did when he was 10. A world full of cameras and films; video games and anime, special effects and movie props, would he really grow up to be some lonely geek? Still living in his parents basement, chasing this childish dream he had, to one day make movies and be on the big screen? What did his future hold for him, would he really be going to film school? Could he even get in?

Suddenly he heard a noise, it was a beep- no a horn, the sound of a car horn, and it sounded a lot like Shainilla's. It couldn't be- could it?

Spencer doubtfully looked at his watch, there's no way it's 7 yet, but sure enough the clock read 07:05.

Shit!

He quickly grabbed a pair of jeans from his floor - they probably hadn't been washed in weeks- and a big ass Adventure Time t- shirt his grandma had bought him 2 years ago, insisting he'd 'grow into it'. Apparently she also had a hard time remember how old he was.

He stuck his feet halfway into his worn out converse, grabbed his bag, and ran out the door.

"Just woke up?" Shanilla asked with a smile, a smile that Spencer could tell was forced.

His cheeks turned a slight shade of red, he wanted to apologise. He honestly should have apologised, but he didn't. He knew he was burden he seriously didn't understand why Shanilla continued to bring him to school. He knew her smile was her way of trying to make it seem like it was okay; it was her way of trying to spare his feelings because she was too nice to yell or complain; he felt terrible.

The ride to school was silent. The silence was filled with tension, no one wanted to speak about what was actually on their mind; that if you were late to class too many times you'd get detention.

You got 2 hours Saturday or Sunday, the hours could be taken all at once, or they could be taken a day a part, but either way no one had the time or patience to want to go. If they wanted to yell Spencer wanted them to get it over with, if they wanted to stop taking him to school they could just say it, he was the cause of these problems, so he wanted to face the consequences, but instead no one said anything.

Pulling up to school always made Spencer feel depressed. It was like the building just gave off these waves of sadness; he wondered if he was the only one who could feel it. Did anyone else instantly want to die when they got here? Spencer wondered.

It was around 07:10 when they got to school, there were 5 minutes until the bell, but when you had to visit a locker that was nowhere near your first period, time was shortened greatly.

Rajeev and Shanilla muttered a 'see ya', and made their way to class, Spencer on the other hand made his way up to his locker.

The inside was decorated with stickers and pictures and posters he - and Rajeev and Shanilla- had collected over the years. They'd been friends for 4 years, but Spencer was beginning to think whatever they had would soon be over. Sure getting detention is a pretty petty thing to ruin a friendship over, but when the detention was over something as stupid as getting to class late too many times,irritation was understood.

He thought back to the day, they were at freshman connection.

Spencer did not want to be there, but his mother insisted that it'd be a great way to make friends.
The three of them had been paired up in a sort of speed date game, and they'd been friends ever since then. It was sad to think it was coming to an end.

Spencer sighed, closing his locker, he'd also managed to, in the midst of his scurrying, forget his book. So not only was he going to be late for first period, he was also unprepared. What else could go wrong?

And as if some greater being had been out to get him this whole time, he tripped running up the stairs.

Ghaa!

Once he made it to the door of his first period an idea hit him, he could just skip the class; there was no penalty for skipping a period. He could just come back later and go straight to second period, why hadn't I thought of this before?

He turned to leave, when someone ran into him. Again? This was the second time today he'd been on the dirty school floor.

I hope this doesn't become a habit.

"Whoa, watch where you're going brometheus," the person said; he had shoulder length black hair, and brown eyes, and was carrying something Spencer couldn't make out.

"What do you mean, you bumped into me," Spencer whined, but before he could finish his sentence the figure was gone.

What? But he didn't have time to question what was happening because as soon as the guy was gone - it could've been a girl, but judging by the voice….- principal Ponzi came from around the corner.

Spencer wanted to laugh, the guy was miraculously bald, miraculous because he wasn't bald when Spencer saw him this morning, but now…

"Oh, so you think this is funny?" Ponzi yelled, looking at the slight smirk on Spencer's face.

"I-" Spencer started, only to be pulled by Ponzi.

"Let's go."

But...

Spencer tried to ease his mind. So this is what it's like to be in trouble, huh?

He walked cautiously down the hall along the side of Ponzi. Whatever that guy'd done really pissed Ponzi off. Now Spencer didn't really have a problem with Ponzi, he felt nothing for him to be honest, but during this moment he felt bad. Ponzi wasn't the best guy in the world, heck there were so many people that were better than him, but if the school had caught on fire and Spencer had the chance to save one person, assuming Shanilla and Rajeev had made it out okay, that someone would be Ponzi.

You see you had to look at things both ways, sure the guy was a jerk to pretty much everyone, but if you had to spend your days here with hundreds of smelly, annoying teens, you'd probably feel the same. And it wasn't even about whether you loved the job or not, because with everything, even things you love, there was always something bad that could be found in it. So that's why Spencer didn't hate Ponzi, he somewhat understood what the guy had to go through, or at least tried to.

"Uh, principal Ponzi," Spencer called hesitantly, "am I in trouble?"

"Oh, you are in more than just trouble, once I find that partner of yours I will suspend you so good," he explained.

"Partner? Mr. Ponzi I don't even know that guy."

"Yea, yea, that's what all the suspects say, every year someone fools me with the guilt trick, but this year I'm not having any of it," Ponzi established.

"But-"

"Go to my office, I'm sick of talking to you, wait for me in there." And with that Ponzi was done talking.

Spencer, obviously, went to his office. There were just some people you didn't disobey, and even though Spencer wouldn't have disobeyed any teacher, he knew he had the ability to. But disobeying Ponzi? That thought hadn't even come to his mind. Besides, he was already in enough trouble as it was.

He wanted to laugh. This day just can't get any worse than this can it?

Either way it seemed as though Spencer was doomed. If he'd've gone to class he would've ended up in detention, and even now he's in trouble. What was the world trying to tell him? Why was it so content on ruining his day. Ironic.

More importantly, how was he going to explain this to his parents? He'd already disappointed them so many times before, but getting detention, and maybe even suspension? That was a new low. Just how mad would they be? Especially for something like this?

"Oh, hello Mr. and Mrs. Wright, your son is being suspended for a prank that he was even part of."

And what if they didn't even believe him when he tried to defend himself? Spencer groaned to himself, he was in so deep.

After a few minutes of sitting in that bland office alone- lime walls, and brown furniture- the door opened and in walked the guy, and not far behind Ponzi.

The boy gave Spencer a puzzled look, but took a seat next to him. Ponzi also had his hair back. Spencer would have smiled, he might've even laughed, if he hadn't been so tense.

"Mr. Cohen, I am done dealing with your pranks, how many more time are you going to continue to steal from me? Once you turn 18 you're no longer a juvenile, and you can, and will go to jail if this continues. Do you even care about your future?" Ponzi yelled, and even though it wasn't even aimed at Spencer, he wanted to cry.

He hated being yelled at, he hated being in trouble, it made his heart beat so fast, and his head hurt, and he had a hard time breathing; it was all so bad. He knew most people didn't like him, but if they yelled that just proved it more. And maybe that's what he was afraid of most. Would his parents yell at him for this, would they hate him too? He was beginning to run out of people to turn to. First Rajeev and Shanilla, and now his parents. Not to mention Jessica, who Spencer was convinced he'd lost a long time ago.

"Whatever Ponzi, you say the same things over and over again, and maybe one day it'll get through here," he pointed to his head, " but…. what does this guy have to do with any of this?"

Ponzi's eyes narrowed. " Don't play games with me Cohen, I caught your little sidekick, and now the both of you are going down."

"Look Ponzi, I'm a man of my own work, I don't need you chucking some dork in, trying to make him seem like the mastermind behind all this. Besides, The Cobra works alone, always has, always will," the boy explained, putting his hands behind his head with a smirk.

Ponzi hesitated, maybe he was wrong.

He glanced at the boy sitting across from him, he sat staring down at the floor, but Ponzi could still tell he'd either been crying, or was going to start and ponzi wasn't good with tears.

He cleared his throat, " well, I suppose, since this is your first infraction, Mr. Wright, that I will just let you off with a warning, but don't let it happen again."

The boy smirked, causing Principal Ponzi to grimace.

"Just get out, I'll be seeing you for detention this Saturday Mr. Cohen, 7 a.m. sharp, don't forget" he finished.

The man sighed as he heard the door shut.

Thank him, Spencer thought. Do it so he won't hate you. He hesitated, why was this so hard. Say it before he's gone.

"Thank you," Spencer blurted out after the boy. He didn't know why, but he felt weak. It was over wasn't it? He wasn't going to be in trouble, he wasn't getting detention or suspension, and now he had a perfect excuse as to why he'd be late for first period. All his problems had been fixed, but he couldn't help the feeling.

The boy turned around with as smirk, and held up his thumb, then walked off.

Spencer hadn't even gotten his name, but he was a student here, so maybe he'd see him again.

There was something strange about that guy, the way he couldn't give a care about the things Ponzi was saying. Spencer had thought numerous times about his future, and it scared him. But that guy didn't even flinch when Ponzi mentioned jail.

How can he be so calm?

Spencer watched as the boy walked further and further away from his view.

...

He'd been caught. He wanted to laugh.

It's about time Ponzi, I thought you were beginning to get old, Billy had thought

"Oh, Baruch, you've really done it now!" Ponzi hissed.

"Billy," he corrected, to which Ponzi responded with an eye roll.

He walked with a smirk into the man's office, but was met with a face.

This is the guy I ran into… what's he doing here?

He looked at the boy with a confused look on his face, but took a seat next to him anyway.

Then Ponzi got to yelling. At times like these Billy just focused really hard on something to drown him out, maybe that bookshelf that he swore held fake books, or that plant in Ponzi's corner that he knew was fake, but today he was having a hard time doing that. He kept glancing at the boy sitting next to him, he kept popping into Billy's head; he looked like he was in some sort of pain.. why was he even here?

He then noticed that Ponzi had stopped talking, and sighed with relief.

"Whatever Ponzi, you say the same things over and over again, and maybe one day it'll get through here, but…. what does this guy have to do with any of this?" he asked gesturing to the boy sitting beside him.

The man narrowed his eyes, " don't play games with me Cohen, I caught your little sidekick, and now the both of you are going down."

Going down? Billy thought, does anyone even say that anymore?

"Look Ponzi, I'm a man of my own work, I don't need you chucking some dork in, trying to make him seem like the mastermind behind all this. Besides, The Cobra works alone, always has, always will," he explained smirking.

He watched as Ponzi glanced between him and the boy, he loved it when Ponzi was wrong.

Serves him right for always assuming.

Besides, Billy didn't want to get the guy in trouble, especially this dork, he couldn't make it in detention, the poor guy would probably have a heart attack or something.

He watched as Ponzi choked out his attempt at an apology.

Since this was your first infraction my ass, Ha! He didn't even do anything, get off your high horse dude.

Billy wanted to laugh in the man's face, he was wrong. Why couldn't he accept that?

Maybe it was because he was angry, or because he felt embarrassed, but Ponzi kicked them out about 2 seconds later. He'd said something else, but Billy had no interest in finding out what it was.

He wanted to go home, well not home per se, but he didn't want to be here. You see home was not a place that Billy liked to be, which is why he'd moved out a few months ago.

His mother was tired of him constantly getting suspended. He'd gotten suspended so many times he was now on probation, granted most of those were for petty, ridiculous reasons.

Billy didn't see the problem with it, but his mother insisted that as long as he lived under her roof that she still had control over him.

To which he responded with a slam of his bedroom door, and a few days later he'd temporarily moved into a motel a few blocks away from the school.

Besides, Billy knew that Ponzi was out to get him, But now.. what else could happen to him?

He'd be 18 in a few months, and his probation would be over, even if it was extended it wouldn't last for long.

And that jail thing Ponzi was always going on about? Yea right. Billy would be gone way before that had a chance to happen.

At this moment he was planning a get away; h e was planning to run away. Well, maybe not "runaway" since he'd kinda already done that, but he wanted to get out of this town. Unfortunately, this was the one thing he couldn't do on his own, which was why he was still here.

"Thank you," he heard from behind him, he'd forgotten about that guy. Billy turned around with a smile and give him a thumbs up. What was he thanking me for?

Billy made it back to his room, his real room, his mom was at work during this time, so every now and then he'd come to get his things, it was beginning to look pretty barren. He'd sold most of his furniture, in all honesty he never really had much. He'd tried to sell everything from his bedroom but he couldn't make money from most of it, and he couldn't bring it with him when he left, so he was forced to get rid of it.

He'd had a pillow, some blankets, a flashlight and his guitar; that was all. All of his clothes were either thrown out or in his bag, and that's pretty much all he had. There were a few cds, but he planned on getting rid of them. He had to get out of his motel room soon, he'd already paid for his last day, and as soon as the room was booked by someone else he'd be out.

Of course it was hard to get a lot of stuff done when you weren't 18 yet, but with a fake ID all those problems went away. Besides, he'd be 18 in a few months? How much older can you get in that amount of time? Not much. You might as well be treated as an adult once you hit 17- or at least that's how Billy saw it.

He grabbed the stack of CD's and made his way down the stairs. He took one last look at is house; the kitchen that he'd eaten breakfast in so many times, that stupid baby picture of him was still on the wall. He'd made the choice to leave here long ago, even before he'd moved out, and with that choice he'd gotten rid of any feelings he had attached to this house too, but still… A part of him felt something. He didn't want to cry, but he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay there and look at his house some more.

Billy sighed and sat his stack of CD's down. He found a random sheet of paper, and took a permanent marker from the fridge; he began to write:

Dear mom,

I came home today, I just wanted to get the last of my stuff. I'm not sure if you've even been in my room since I've been gone, but if you haven't, and you notice everything is missing, it's because of me. I sold it. I'm not even sure if you care, but I'll be leaving soon, and you are still my mother, so I wanted to give you a proper goodbye. You're keeping the house up, I'm glad. Don't come looking for me at the motel, because as I said before I'll be gone. I've paid the last of my rent and packed all my bags, don't worry about me. I've got someone coming along with me, and my guitar, I'll be okay. Goodbye.

-Billy

He folded the paper up, and left it on the kitchen counter. He didn't know when she'd find it, or if she'd find. Maybe she'd throw it away. She hadn't come looking for him at the motel before, and she probably hadn't even been in his room. But she was his mother, and he had to say goodbye.

And sure, he'd told her that he was going with someone, which was technically a lie, but he would find someone, and as soon as he did he'd be gone.