Hardly Worth Your Time

It was dismissal and I pretty much skipped my classes the whole day.

"Ryan!" Spencer shouted.

I looked to see Spencer accompanied by two guys. The first guy looked really nerdy and rich due to the fact he was wearing designer big rimmed red glasses and had a goofy smile planted on his face, while the other guy looked average.

"These are the guys I was telling you earlier this morning about,"

"Brendon Urie and Brent Wilson at your service," the goofy-looking dude said.

Maybe this guy could really sing. He has good speech and his voice sounds really good.

"Nice meeting you," I said. "Ryan Ross,"

"So we've heard," Brendon smiled.

"Okay since everyone know who's who, where will we practice?" Spencer chimed.

"Not mine," I shrugged.

Just the thought of the small space our garage had, and with my parents probably fighting over the same things would make you squeamish if you haven't been to my house yet.

"Me neither," Brendon said. "My parents wouldn't agree unless we'd play country shit,"

"Same here," Brent shrugged.

"Why not?" me and Spencer asked.

"I live with my grandparents so you get the picture,"

Which leave us no other option. Spencer.

"Fine," he moaned. "My house,"

His house was only a few blocks away from the school, so we had no problem getting there.

It was a quarter to 8 when we stopped playing. We only did a few Blink-182 covers, but still we had fun.

"Never knew you guys liked listening to Blink," I smiled as I was fixing my guitar strap. Man I hate it when it tangles.

"Expect the unexpected, my friend." Brendon grinned. Brent just faintly smiled.

"So that's a wrap," Spencer said. "Good job guys,"

With that being said, we all went home to our respective homes. Although I can't call mine a home, maybe hell hole would do.

My house was just a few blocks away from Spencer's, the 2nd house at the end of the street. No wonder we're best friends.

Upon opening the front door of my house, the smell of beer and vodka dawned to me. god, does it reek in here or what.

"Hey dad," I said to the man who was watching t.v. and seated on the couch.

"Hey son," he replied not looking at me.

"Mom's not home yet?"

"Nah. I bet that woman left us," he laughed.

"Nice one," I shrugged as I got a can of Dr. Pepper out of the fridge.

I was supposed to go to my room to get a good night's rest, but then decided to stay beside my old man. I mean we weren't really the best father and son duo, but then again he's the only person who can understand me and my issues.

"So dad," I started. "I met this girl.."

"She hot?" he asked, his eyes still glued on the screen.

"I don't think that's the right term," I said. "I prefer pretty,"

He just laughed and kind of smacked my head.

"It's my first time hearing you say a girl looks pretty,"

I just stared at him, weirdly.

"I know I'm not that much of a help, but whoever this girls is seems different among the other girls you've told me,"

"Yea," I simply said.

"Girlfriend material if you ask me," he added.

"But I only met her this morning,"

"You whine like a wimp," he shrugged. "Women like these only come around once in a lifetime, so I suggest you to stop acting like a kid and be a man for once,"

I hate it when my dad knows better.

"Thanks, dad." I sighed.

Believe it or not, my dad may be drunk, but he gives insulting yet helpful advices. I love my old man.