High school was shitty. Poor parents, clothes messily stitched together, slurs spray painted on your locker. At least you were a straight A student. Things got better when your new history teacher, Mr. Way, come along.

He was fair, didn't play around with deinquents and gave everyone an equal shot at success. He began noticing how you payed more attention in his class than anyone else; how you would stick around when you were supposed to be going home so you could do your homework in the back of the room.

He had a comforting presence about him, a calm demeanor.

It was Friday, and all the other students were exiting the classroom. You, like always, stayed in your seat and put your headphones on, intending on completing your homework there. Gerard came over after a moment and leaned against your desk.

"Hey kiddo. You want some company?"