FicWad

A/N: I really don't have anything to say. Except that I smell like Subway. The downfalls of being a sandwich artist. _sigh.

We walked out to Mikey’s car in silence. He unlocked the doors and we clambered in.

“How old are you again?” He asked.

“Eighteen.” I replied, making the window go up and down as he pulled out of the parking lot and started towards the road.

“And you dropped out of school?”

I looked over at him. “Do you spy on me, or something?” I laughed a little bit.

“No!” He laughed. “I’m just extremely nosy and I read through your application.”

“So, you did spy on me.” I did my best to restrain a giggle.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well then what do you call it?”

“A jacket whore.” He responded.

“…What?” I eyed him.

“My brother is a jacket whore. You can ask him yourself.” He said, as if it were an obvious thing.

“…Not that that wasn’t an important piece of information or anything…” I continued to stare at him. “But what does that have to do with you spying on me?”

“I don’t know.” He grinned. “So, you worked at McDonald’s bedore you came to work here. How was that?”

“Shitty.” I mumbled.

“Did you get to make French fries?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just going to give me one worded answers now?”

“Yep.”

“Alright then, I guess I won’t talk to you for the rest of the way there.”

“Fine” I said, looking out the window.

I was going to get him to talk to me. I was now on a mission.

I started playing with the radio stations, just to see if that brought anything out. Nothing.
So, I reached across him and turned on the windshield wipers. This was actually getting kind of fun. I started hitting every button I could find out of my own amusement.

“CORNFLAKES!” He screamed, causing me to jump and nearly wet myself.

“What?” I asked, my eyes wide.

“No more pushing my buttons!” He ordered.

“Alright! Fine!”

We drove for a few more minutes, then pulled into a driveway. We both got out and he lead me to the front door.

“Welcome to our world of chaos.” He told me. Directly after that, I heard a smashing sound from behind the door. “At least I warned you.” He grinned, then flung open the door.

There were two guys wrestling in the middle of the floor. A blonde one and one with a fro. A short kid was standing on the couch, his fists pumped into the air over his black Mohawk. A lamp was shattered on the floor. Ainsley was sitting in the chair, cheering on the madness.

“I will crush you!” The guy with the mohawk yelled. Then he jumped on top of both of them.

I stood in the door way, sot of afraid that if I’d step though, I’d get sucked into the swarm of fist throwing guys.

“That’s my hair!” The one with the fro yelled as the short one yanked it.

“I know!” He yelled, before getting tackled by the blond one.

“Come on,” Mikey lead me around the mass of fighting people and beside of Ainsley.

“Kick their asses Frank!” She yelled.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Well, Bob slapped Ray, so Ray slapped him back. They started fighting. Bob then tackled Ray, so they started wrestling. Frank threw the lamp at them and missed. Then, they both pulled him into the fight.” She explained.

“You didn’t help very much.” I mumbled, still confused as ever.

“Guys! We have company!” Mikey yelled.

As soon as he said the word ‘company’, they stopped fighting and looked up.

“New person!” The mohawked kid yelled and ran over to me. “I’m Frank. Who are you? You’re pretty.”

“I’m Hazel.” I told him. I felt myself blushing slightly.

“I’m Bob.” The blonde one said.

“And, I’m Ray.” Fro dude took my hand and shook it.

“You let the guy that takes the electric heater in the shower with him, drive her here?” Frank exclaimed.

“Yes.” Ainsley nodded proudly. “Yes, sir”

I turned and gave Mikey a confused look.

“Well, I wasn’t cold.” He smiled sheepishly.

“And let’s not forget you stuck forks in the toaster.” Frank reminded him.

“That one wasn’t my fault.”

“Are you guys done fighting so we can get on with practice?” I jumped at the sound of Gerard’s voice.