1 ;; the new kid

                                    

                                          



The day started out normally for John Lennon - or - as normal as his days could get, really.


                          
First off; wake up.
 Gigantic, pounding hangover from getting blazed the night before. 
Find out that he slept in.
 And also that it was the first day back at school (the new year!). 
As well, Ringo was probably waiting at their meetup spot, wondering where the fuck he was.
Grab his guitar and shove it into its case.
Get a kick up the arse from Mimi before booking it to his (un)desired location. 
                          
So that was where he was now. Desperately trying to pull on his scuffed school shoes, abandoning his attempt at tying the frayed shoelaces as he sped down the dreary cobblestone streets of Liverpool, untucked shirt flapping in the crisp wind, guitar case strapped to his back; it was nearing the end of summer, leaves on trees turning honeyed browns and cherry reds, the baby blue sky above blotted out with greyish clouds. The sun still managed to seep its way through the gaps, though, sending warm patches of light onto the city below. 
The suburbs around him were alive with people, swarming about, making their daily commute to their workplaces, just like every other day. Even though he was late to school, people were still going off to whatever job they had. He not-so-expertly dodged through the crowds surrounding him, bumping into others many times as he went, angered calls being thrown after him; but it never affected him, of course, John never being a person who was particularly bothered at what strangers thought of him.
                          
As he rounded a street corner, the boy collided with a young woman, almost sending her supermarket shopping on a trip to the ground below. The woman yelled "oi! Prick!" after him - but he was already gone. Appearing in a whirlwind of chaos and mayhem and disappearing just as quickly. Like a fleeting thought or loose feather in the wind. 
                          
"John!" A distant, but familiar voice spoke his name; looking up, John let out a noise of greeting as he jogged over to meet the boy, both standing in the middle of the road for a few seconds - but they were kicked off it by people in cars sending them loud honks and yells of exasperation, both making their way to the footpath (with maybe one or two middle fingers directed at a few people on the way).
                          
Ringo. 
John's best friend, confidant, and partner in crime. Together, the two wreaked havoc at Quarrybank Music Academy, never paying proper attention in class and fooling around, trying to make others laugh at any opportunity that arose. They grew up together, having gone to the same primary school before vowing to stick together for eternity as kids, even through university and whatever they ended up doing in their adulthood. So far, their promise had been kept. 17 year old boys at the same academy, still causing trouble after many years. Hated by teachers and principals alike; but of course, never the students. They were the class clowns, the entertainment during tough times; and they were overall liked by their entire year level. 
                          
No one wanted to be on their bad side. John Lennon and Ringo Start pretty much ruled the entire school from their throne of year 12; become an enemy and pay the price. But they weren't assholes, really. They didn't enjoy picking on smaller kids or anything of that sort. They were just there to have fun. 

                          
"Fucks sake, 've been waitin' forever! We're both bloody late now!" Ringo groaned, his voice laced with impatience as they continued on their treacherous journey to their personal hell called school. 
                          
"Sorry, mate!" John shot back with a chuckle. "Pounding headache, horrible hangover, the works!" 
                          
"Aye, same here. Ye look it, too!" Ringo quipped, causing John to throw a punch to his shoulder, albeit playfully. 
                          
"Not too bad yerself, Rich." 
                          
Darting through the pathways, the azure-eyed boy spotted something coming up behind them, turning to look in shock.