FicWad

Disclaimer: I do not own the Breakfast Club.

... ... ...
Monday, March 12, 1985
... ... ...

Brian watched out the window as the sights and scenery of Taylor Street in Chicago flew by. The West side wasn't exactly the most appealing part of the big city. It was pretty over crowded due to the always expanding University campuses and medical facilities, so there were always people every where. However, the West end of Chicago held one little area that made Brian's mouth water.

Little Italy.

Near the West end, the heart of little Italy stretched down Taylor Street. Although the street now housed more college and university students, as well as different Hispanics, it was absolutely famous for its cuisine. It held everything from small street stands to five star restaurants, and Brian dabbed into each at least once in his seventeen years of life.

Italian food was his absolute favorite. On normal occasions, Brian would eat one plate of dinner and that was all. Anytime he had Italian, however, he gorged himself until he couldn't walk anymore. There wasn't a single Italian dish that he could think of that he didn't like.

It only made sense that he would choose an Italian spot for his birthday dinner. For the first time in a long time he had been invited out by friends for his birthday. The last five birthdays had been strictly celebrated by his family only. Every year his grandparents would drive home from Evanston to visit, and they would have a roast beef dinner together. Things were usually more stressful than fun, however, due to the ongoing war waged between his grandmother and his mother. More often than not, the fights would be over the way she kept her house, the way she raised Brian and his sister, Mary, amongst other silly things. His father almost always ended up shouting, and his sister crying. One thing that was always certain was the crappy gifts they would bring for him. They were the only cheesy sweaters his mother refused to let him wear - and for that he was thankful.

This year was different as well as special. Almost a year ago he had been at his worst. By the time the second term of his sophomore year had begun, Brian had already earned some of his junior credits. Taking all that he could already take at that grade, he decided to choose an 'easy' course to maintain his grades until he was able to continue in advanced studies. Unfortunately for him, the course that he had chosen hadn't been as easy as initially thought, and he ended up failing it. Unable to bear the pressure of the lost grade from his parents, he drastically decided to take a gun to school - a move that landed him in a full day of Saturday detention. His mother and father were absolutely furious with him, he was grounded for two months, and he had to do community service at the school to replace the destroyed property. He was humiliated, stressed, depressed, and most of all lonelier than ever.

Fate was on his side that Saturday, and he met four other people in detention. At first glance, he was quite intimidated by the group. There were three types of people in there that picked on him and bullied him everyday, and the fourth, well she just scared the shit out of him because she was weird. By the end of the day however, they had opened up to each other and become friends. They all had found out that - despite their most obvious differences - they sure did have a lot in common.

As the weeks followed, their friendships deepened considerably and they did a lot of activities together. Claire - whom he initially dubbed the preppy queen - had developed a relationship with the group bad boy and dubbed criminal, John Bender. Allison, the strange girl who had scared him at first, had developed her own relationship with the boy wonder jock, Andrew Clark. Things were good, for the most part.

Their problem was those obvious differences. On so many deep levels the group had connected, but they just could never get over those big differences. They still had trouble with John's violence and criminal activities. They still had problems with Claire's attitude and financial status; as well as Brian's nerdiness, Allison's strangeness, and Andrew's hero complex.

Things stood stagnant where it counted the most.

He felt like he was always stuck in the middle of it all. John would bitch at Claire for being to snotty, Claire would bitch at Allison about cleaning her up a bit, Andrew would bitch at John for getting them into some trouble, and he was always the only one asking them to knock it off.

His birthday was no exception.

He was excited when they proposed the idea to him about taking him out to dinner in Little Italy. It was the first time since public school that anyone wanted to have a party for him. They offered to drive, pay, and even provide him a cake; he would never admit it, but he was so happy when they told him that he had to blink back tears. Putting aside their differences and doing something nice for him was the best birthday present he could have imagined.

Right after school that day he threw his backpack into his closet and immediately jumped into the shower to get ready. He wanted to look his best, which included cleaning up, styling his hair, wearing his best clothes, and shaving the small amounts of blonde hair on his face. He spent about an hour an a half getting ready, and another half an hour bouncing on the couch waiting for Andrew to come and pick him up in his bronco.

And when he did, the trouble began almost immediately.

Allison was riding shot gun with Andrew, which left him to sit in the back with Claire and John. Allison was annoyed with Andy for being late, Claire was yelling at John to stop messing up her hair, while John mocked her for doing so. Andrew had yelled at the entire group - at least a dozen times - to stop distracting him as he drove. Brian just leaned his head against the cool glass of the window to halt the oncoming headache that was fast approaching.

His happy birthday dreams were leaking down the drain fast.

... ... ...

"Well, we're here." Andrew stated as he parked the car in a large parking lot on the side of the street.

"Way to state the obvious, Sporto." John mocked as he jumped out the car and began to stretch his limbs. Claire glared at him.

"Don't even start!" She warned. "It's Brian's birthday today, so we are not going to fight."

Yeah right, Brian thought.

"So where are we eating again?" Allison asked as she too hopped from the vehicle.

"The Rosebud," Claire replied shuffling through her purse as she walked towards the sidewalk on the street. The rest of the group followed suit and didn't say much until they got to the street.

John snorted. "Man, and I thought east side Shermer was a dump." He kicked at an old pizza box and let it skitter down the sidewalk. It came to a halt in front of an older gentleman who looked to be in his fifties or sixties - and very homeless.

Brian frowned and jogged ahead to pick up the crusty box. He nodded at the older gentleman. "Uh, sorry." The older man gave him no response, so Brian turned around and headed towards the nearest garbage can.

He waited up ahead until the group caught up. For once, they were actually fairly silent in their walk. Bender had his hands jammed into his pockets and he was looking through all the windows of the shops that they passed. Claire was still transfixed with the contents of her purse. Andy looked hungry in every sense of the word, while Allison just walked silently on the tips of her feet with her hair in her face. Brian sighed.

"Well, this is it," Claire proclaimed. It was a brown brick building with a small neon sign hanging from above the door. It wasn't much from the outside, but the inside was a whole other story.

"What's so special about this?" Bender queried.

Claire rolled her eyes. "It's one of the best Italian restaurants in town! Did you know Frank Sinatra eats here?" Andy grabbed the door for her and she walked in, leaving Bender on the sidewalk with her words. Andy gave him a blank look, which John only responded to with a shrug. Brian followed the two boys in the door, and they waited to be seated.

The inside of the restaurant was gorgeous. There were many mirrors on the walls, which were lined and made of mahogany wood. Each table was dressed with a white table cloth and decorated napkins. On the walls were pictures of dozens of celebrities who frequented the establishment. It was an impressive restaurant none the less.

"Hello, there! Did you have reservations?" The hostess asked with a sweet Italian accent.

Claire smiled politely and adjusted her purse strap. "Yes, um party of five for Standish?" The dark haired woman checked her notepad and nodded happily, gesturing the group to follow her lead. She took them to the left side of the room where they sat at a rectangular table next to the window, overlooking Taylor Street. As they took their seats, the hostess passed out their menus and told them that their waitress would appear shortly. Brian took off his jacket and wrapped it around the back of his chair, which was situated at the end of the table. The girls sat to his left, and Andrew and John to his right.

"This is really great, guys. Thanks a lot." Brian nodded his head at them and smiled.

Bender flung his menu open sloppily and snorted. "Yeah sure, dork." He flipped a few pages before his face contorted with confusion. "What in the fuck is pasta E faggy-olee?"

A few patrons turned their heads at his blunt words and Claire picked up on it. "John, watch your mouth! Its Pasta E fagioli! It's a soup." Her words were stern.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Well, I don't think that sounds very appetizing."

Andy stared at him for a few moments. "Dude, its food."

John closed his menu and set it down in front of him. "Well you don't say? I could have sworn that it was feces they listed in a fuckin' menu!"

Andrew only shrugged and continued reading his menu. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry, Andy." Brian pointed out amusedly. If it was one thing he could always count on it was Andy's stomach. Sometimes he wondered where the hell it all went.

"Can we just choose our meals in peace? Please?" Claire near begged. She had her forehead resting in her hand and she was massaging her temples. John just stared at her.

"I don't even know how to read this crap. How am I supposed to pick what to eat?"

Brian felt that familiar annoyance building up in his chest. "Why don't you just have some lasagna then? And maybe some garlic bread with it? That's simple enough, isn't it?"

He blinked. "I'll have some spaghetti. And balls." He announced, loudly. There were a few gasps heard around their table and Brian slouched a bit. John grinned. "Oh sorry, I meant of the meat variety."

The waitress approached their table. "Would you like a side order with that, sir?" She gave him a casual look and perked her eyebrows expectantly.

"He'll have some bruschetta," Claire cut in. "You can also get him a coke." She glared at John, daring him to say another word.

"Thanks, mom."

Brian winced and held his breath. Thankfully, Claire didn't carry on any further with him. Claire only looked at the waitress with a forced smile. "I'll have the veal limone with an iced tea please."

Andy cleared his throat. "Chicken alla parmigiana with pasta. I'll have a coke."

Brian smiled at the waitress. "Hello ma'am. If you don't mind, I will have the grilled fillet, and just give me chocolate milk."

She nodded curtly and stared at Allison, who for some reason, insisted on staring at her right back. The waitress perked an eyebrow. "Are you eating?"

Allison let out a loud breath and blew her bangs from her face. She stared down at her menu, and then looked back up at the waitress. "Antipasti salad with shrimp. Add some linguine noodles, guacamole, and ketchup."

The waitress looked confused. "On the side?"

Allison smirked. "Inside of it. All of it mixed together." She closed her menu and pushed it away from herself. She folded her arms and stared at the waitress once more. The waitress looked back at Claire.

"Should I get her a drink?"

Claire bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Just get her a coke and she'll be fine."

"Inside of her salad or in a cup?"

"A cup is fine," Claire said, with a frustrated tone. So far, she seemed to be the only one acting like a civilized person in the restaurant. Brian was at least thankful for her. He was about to open his mouth when he noticed the waitress hadn't left yet.

"Um, did you need anything else?" Brian asked her politely.

She nodded her head and tucked a long strand of black hair behind her ear. "Is this all going on the same bill?"

She asked the dreaded question. That was when all hell broke loose. Why that sort of thing wasn't planned out ahead of time was beyond his knowledge, but this was the breakfast club he was talking about.

Allison looked at Andrew, and then Andrew stared at Allison. "What?" They asked each other simultaneously.

"You're the one who gets allowance!" She argued. "Besides, you're my boyfriend; you're the one who is supposed to treat me!"

The waitress gawked. "You're dating her?"

Allison winced and glared at the young girl. "Yes, he is."

Andrew just looked a bit lost. "I thought you said you picked fifty dollars from someone this morning?"

"Well, I'm broke!" Bender declared happily.

Claire glared. "I'm so not getting into this with you guys because it always ends with me spending money, and that is not fair!"

"But you have the most of it!" Andrew pointed out as if it were the most obvious thing in the whole world.

"I spent that money!" Allison told him. Brian wasn't sure if he believed her or not. She always said random things that sometimes weren't very true.

Brian frowned at the waitress. "I can pay for my own meal, that is not a problem, Miss. I have birthday money..."

"NO!" Allison, Andrew, and Claire all yelled at him simultaneously. Brian winced; if the heads weren't turned before, they definitely were now. The three teens instantly turned their attention from Brian and back to each other. He looked back at the young waitress, who just looked completely stumped.

"I cannot believe he is dating her!" She mumbled under her breath and she waited for her answer. She had her hip cocked out to the side as she tapped her pen on her notepad. Brian opened his mouth, but couldn't find it in him to retort.

"All I know is that I ain't paying. I'll fuckin' dine and dash if I have to." Bender announced.

"You couldn't have spent all of that in one morning, Allison! What did you buy?" Andy exclaimed.

"Probably more elephant sized tampons!" Bender laughed.

"Guys come, on! Don't you plan this ahead of time?" Claire asked, exasperated.

"This was your idea, Claire!" Allison pointed out.

"Well I can't..."

"But you should..."

"Fine! I'll fucking pay, you little brats!"

Brian let out a breath and looked around at all the faces that were staring at them. The others continued to bicker while the waitress stared. "Well I guess that's all on one bill..." She circled something on her pad and quickly made a hasty retreat to the back of the restaurant. Brian slumped in his seat and put his head in his hands.

... ... ...

They left the restaurant in silence. Claire was livid that she had to fork out almost seventy dollars to pay for their meals. Andrew and Allison weren't speaking to each other...and Bender was just pissed off and Brian wasn't sure why. They had been bickering nonstop all throughout their meal until someone had brought up the tab again - and they all had gotten so angry and frustrated that they decided to leave, and they didn't even give Brian his birthday cake. He clutched his leftover food in his hands and sighed dejectedly.

"Can you spare me some change?" Brian jumped at the sound of the voice and looked down at the older homeless man that he had encountered earlier. He stopped to search his pockets as the rest of the group went ahead. When he came up with nothing but a twenty dollar bill, he shrugged.

"I guess I don't. I'm sorry." His hands fell to his sides in defeat. He felt even more pathetic.

"Don't worry. I'm sure the restaurants will throw out the leftovers again tonight. Have a good day." The older man whispered as he cuddled into his coat once more. Brian frowned.

"Well if that's the case, you can have my dinner." He held out the brown bag ahead of him. The older man looked from the bag, to Brian, and back to the bag. He took it slowly and peered inside. He came up with a smile.

"What's the fancy food for?"

Brian shrugged sadly. "My birthday."

The old man smiled at him. "Happy Birthday, son."

Brian managed a smile for the older man and tucked his hands into the pockets of his brown coat. "Thanks, sir, but it wasn't a very nice one."

He picked at a piece of meat and plucked it into his mouth. "Well, what did you wish for then? Maybe it will come true and your day will be better?" It baffled Brian that a man with no home or possessions was so nice. Were they all like that?

"I didn't get to my cake. Supper went...bad," he offered.

The old man nodded and looked at Brian as he loudly chewed his food. "What were you going to wish for?"

What was he going to wish for? He looked back down the sidewalk at his group of friends; they had started arguing again, and didn't even seem to notice that he was even behind them. He wished that they could just get along for one day. Maybe if they understood each other a little better, things would be a lot easier for them. When that Monday after detention came around they knew that they would be faced with some difficulties. Brian never thought they would still have them a whole year later.

"I don't know," Brian admitted. "A nice night with my friends was good enough for me."

"Just keep 'em close." The old man advised and dug into his food.

"Dork! Get your pansy ass over here before you get raped!" Bender hollered from down the street. Brian sighed and gave the old man one last glance. He nodded at the group of friends and gave Brian a wink. Brian returned the smile and waved the older man off, jogging to catch up with the group.

... ... ...

Brian closed his bedroom door and took off his sweater. The whole car ride home was silent. Not a single word or goodbye was said throughout the entire trip. The only thing he got was a mumbled apology from Andy before he sped off into the night. His birthday had been a total disaster and he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. He pulled on a flannel pajama top and some matching bottoms and crawled under his blankets.

He had been excited all week. They promised him the world, and all he wanted was their companionship. He wanted their friendship and a good time, but that was too much for him to ask. His friends were becoming more and more self centered and shallow - almost as if they were reverting back to their own ways, but kept each other around for the ride.

He missed the days where they talked until they cried. They told each other their darkest secrets and everything that bothered them. Brian had confided in them about his suicide attempt. They were the only people he ever voluntarily offered such information to. He trusted them with every fiber of his being, and now he didn't understand why.

Allison had declared her loneliness. Andrew told them of his prison life where he was allowed no liberties. Bender had angrily proclaimed that he lived in a house with two abusive assholes who could give a shit less about him. Claire had informed them that she was nothing else but a mere pawn at home; the daughter of two people who had more money than they needed.

They all had so many problems and things that they hated about themselves...and they had gone to each other with those issues. It felt so good and liberating to have people to talk to like that.

But they weren't like that anymore.

He thought back to the old man that he had met on the sidewalk that night. He had nothing, and didn't appear to have anybody. The dinner that the five of them had taken for granted had been happily enjoyed by him, and he actually had the kindness to wish him a happy birthday and asked him what he had wished for.

What had he wished for?

He wanted his friends back. He didn't want the bickering to go anymore, and if anything, he wished for something - anything - that would help them to understand each other and be close again. He didn't care what it took to get there, but if he could have anything, a problem solving method would be his wish.

He cared about them that much - especially after what they had done that night - to waste a stupid birthday wish on them.

He wiped angrily at his watering eyes and turned over in his bed so that he could see out his window. The sky was clear for a March night, and for the first time in a long time he could see the stars. He wanted so badly just to look out there for his answer - but he knew it would never come.

He yawned and closed his eyes. Another tear fell down his cheek and he didn't bother to chase it away. "I wish that they would just learn their lesson."

... ... ...

The next morning, Brian woke to the sound of a shrill ringing. At first he thought that maybe it was a smoke detector or something, and that his house was burning down. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up. He looked around the room after taking a few seconds to wake up, and noticed that something was totally wrong with the picture in front of him.

His blankets were pink. His bed was pink. His walls were pink. There were more teddy bears on the other side of the room than he had ever seen in his whole life.

He swallowed hard and the ringing stopped. Where was he? He had never put any posters of Bon Jovi on his wall before, nor had he ever enjoyed the music of Heart. There was a huge shelving unit filled with novels, magazines, records, and movies of all sorts. There was a television set on a small night table at the end of the bed. Something really wasn't right.

He fingered the fabric of the silk covers, and finally noticed that he had nail polish on. In fact, his entire hand was manicured. He brought his hands in front of his face and realized he was also a hell of a lot whiter than normal. He crossed his arms over his chest subconsciously and noticed that something else was horribly wrong.

He had boobs!

Before he could scream, a red headed man burst into his room with a very annoyed look on his face. "Claire, honey, that boyfriend of yours is on the phone! I told you and him already that 7:00 is way too early to be calling here! Take your call and start getting ready for school!" He closed the door and wandered down the hallway.

Brian, feeling way more emotional than usual, burst into tears; he had to have been dreaming! He was going to pick up the phone and Bender was going to be laughing his ass off and yelling 'April Fool's Day'...even though it was March. Bender was mean and always pulled pranks, he just knew that the big old bumhead was pulling his leg...he just...

"Hello?" He sniffled sadly.

"Brian? Listen, its Claire. You have to get ready and meet us in front of my house in like fifteen minutes, okay?"

That was not Claire's voice. He had to have been dreaming! He had to have...

He hung up the phone and pulled the blankets over his head. He had no idea where all the tears were coming from suddenly, but he didn't care. He just cried. He felt like crap.

He had to go pee really bad and he was too scared to pull his pants down.

TBC