#and it's set after jimmy becomes official royalty in bullworth

[garretsyndrome]

An Ode to that one time I tried to enroll for a Tom Gurney RP

Okay so here’s the deal: a cool uwu ( @relicunth ) from the CCE tag saw my Tom Gurney draws and that one Tom/Trent thing I did and wondered how in the hell I was able to come up with that fucking wild af pairing. Well, now you’re about to find out.

As most of you don’t probably know, I love Tom Gurney with every fiber of my being. I may not draw him as much as smops but Tom has been one of my favorite babes ever since the beginning of time. Actually, my favorite clique in the whole game are the Bullies so that’s not much of a surprise. There are also only two characters I tried to RP for in the peak of the 2012-2013 CCE era: Ethan and Tom. I planned on making a Trent ask blog once but that didn’t come into fruition because I don’t draw fast at all. 

Anyway, here’s the long ass supposed-to-be-ficlet-turned-full-on-story-draft about Tom Gurney that I wrote for that RP thing. It’s like an enrollment essay but funnier. Also, it’s what started my spiral into the Torent (eh? im good at this im telling you) madness back in the day. I would post more ficlets if y’all liked it. More like drafts cos I was a messy aspiring fanfic writer during those years.

Enjoy!

The First (and Probs Last) Chapter

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

I woke up to the sound of a loud banging on my bedroom door. 

I lay still for a moment, my eyes wide open as it scanned around the room for anything that might be wrong or out of place. What in the freaking hell is happening, that I don’t know, but one thing’s for sure – I bet my own ass that it’s going to be a very long day.

“C’mon, man! Open up! Something’s happening outside!” I heard Trent’s voice come up from the other side; his fists ceaselessly pounding at the door. 

Feeling dizzy as hell, I blinked a few times to get rid of the grogginess I felt when the sound of yelling and cheering from the outside seeped through my unwilling awareness. Though my curiosity gave me a minor urge to go and check it out, my utter laziness was having none of it. I tried to ignore the uproar, as I was far more concerned with getting back to sleep, but I also knew that Trent’s incessant pestering wasn’t about to stop. However comfortable I may be laying in my bed and very much against opening the damned door, I knew Trent wouldn’t back down until he sees my bruised face out some stupid door crack and drag me to wherever it was he’s so excited about.

And so I groaned and fixed my polo shirt – I must have slept in my school clothes again – and looked for my shoes.

“TOM! YOU ALIVE IN THERE?!” Trent shouted, and I was really tempted to yell back a loud and obnoxious no just to shut him up. Although I’m a bit thankful that the door was somehow able to subtly muffle his noise, it can’t cover the fact that it was still annoying as fuck. “DUDE, HURRY UP!”

“Shit," I cursed and ran my fingers through my hair, forgetting about finding my shoes and stormed to the door. This dude needed some serious shutting up.

“What, Trent? Whad’dya want?” I kept my voice as calm as I could, keeping the tone of irritation from spilling out. But, unfortunately, it didn’t exactly go the way I wanted to and came out more like a snarl than that of my usual lazy tone.

“Eesh. Sorry, dude.” He looked me up from head to toe, completely ignoring what I said, and stopped to stare at my face. “Man, you look like shit. Were you sleeping?”

“What do you think?” I deadpanned. 

Wasn’t it pretty obvious? What else could I be possibly doing in here? Well, of course, that is when you scratch out the ‘extracurricular activities’ I do to pass the time. I’m a growing boy and you know how someone like me can have these… needs every so often. 

Sighing, I scratched my cheek and yawned as my other hand went down to rub my stomach.

“What were you yelling for, man? Surely, you didn’t come here just to piss me off – though I wouldn’t put that past you…” I said the last part under my breath, turning around as I continued the search for my frickin’ shoes. I hate those damn things but I might as well get dressed properly – and by properly, I meant the usual way I dress with the inclusion of them on my feet – before Trent gets all jumpy again and remembers what he was going to tell me. I found my right shoe hidden under the bed, but I can’t seem to find the other one…

“Holy shit, yeah! Fix yourself already, man! You can’t miss this!” he excitedly relayed, jumping like a ten year old who was on an extreme sugar rush. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” 

And then he grinned. There it was – the “full-on sinning” grin. I sighed once again and rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah – sure. Just let me get thi –” I didn’t even get to finish my sentence when he abruptly grabbed my arm and pulled me up towards the door, my other shoe lying isolated beside my clothes’ cabinet. I struggled from his grasp and dragged my bare foot against the floor, hoping to slow him down, as I craned my head to my open dorm room.

“Trent! What the hell, man?! What about my fucking shoe?” I barked, but he didn’t even look back nor gave as much of a glimpse at me as he continued to drag me along the corridor and towards the double doors. As we passed the hall, I noticed a group of students walking and running around in circles, obviously hyped up about something. Some were talking amongst themselves while some were running about to tell their own peers – as what Trent did to me. The noise from outside was getting louder as we neared the door, and I can’t help my own faltered curiosity to spike up a bit.

“Forget about it! You have your socks on, right? Bear with it for a minute,” he shot back, eyes focused on where we’re walking and trying to evade, punch, or elbow the kids also passing through. “I’m telling you, there’s some big shit going on.”

I wriggled my arm out of his hold until he let go, which was the only time he finally turned around to see what was happening behind him. He stopped in his tracks and then gave me a confused look.

“Alright,” I said, relenting to his ‘annoyingness’. “I’m going with you – but you don’t have to drag me there. I can walk by myself, man.”

He nodded curtly like he had just correctly answered the 10th question of Hattrick’s math problem in today’s pop quiz and grinned at me, then put his hand just on the surface of the double doors, like he was about to present the greatest surprise of the century.

“It’ll be a riot, man. I’m tellin’ ya,” he assured me one last time, before finally pushing the doors open and leading me outside.

If the ‘fun’ he was talking about involves beating the crap out of others, then I’m not so sure if I’d really enjoy that. I know I’m a bully – I like my friends, I like how we are and I feel like I belong with them. They accept me and I accept them; we respect each other. But I still can’t help but feel a little too tired with our clique’s rough ways and the crap we give others. There have been a lot of times when I found myself thinking if what we we’re doing to new kids, little kids, or to the over-all student population in general, is still worth all the fun or fuss. They might think so…

But I don’t.

Wow, that’s... pretty deep. I didn’t even realize when I started to feel slightly guilty of what we do. I just started feeling it like it was some kinda parasite that slowly grew inside my chest; and now, although I still beat or scare the living shit out of people, I don’t get to enjoy them as much as I did back then. I’m afraid that I’ve gone a little soft – too soft – from what I was used to. I sometimes feel like I deserve to somehow pay for what I’ve done – maybe that’s why I think others are always out to get me. I’ve got enough bruises and a permanent black eye to be wary of – I don’t need more scars and marks on the rest of my body to haunt me for the rest of my life. But on the other hand, I could say that these 'sore spots' have helped me numerous times as a reminder to always watch out for myself. I do have to admit that it still sucks, though.

Hell, I can’t even get a girl to like me – or, at least cyber with me – ‘cause of these frickin’ contusions. I think that’s where it kinda stings the most.

As we set foot on top of the stairs, the yells and cheers got louder and nearer and I can see a group of kids rushing in to the side of the dorm, probably to get a glimpse of the ongoing riot. Trent and I hurried down the steps to the increasing huddle of students, who were shouting curses and cat-calls and such, and tried to get a glimpse of our own.  

I stuck my head through an opening above the shoulders of two Preps – I didn’t even care who they were; I just wanted to see what was happening even if it meant getting close to those goddamned stuck-up, spoiled, little pukes. Good thing they were too caught up with what was happening, or I would have had to punch their mouth shut if there ever was a complaint or two. I know what I said, doesn’t mean I'll have to be a saint about it. 

I saw a snatch of two brawling bodies getting it on at the center of the cheering crowd, a small one in a green vest and a larger one in a white shirt. There were a throw of punches in the air, growls of struggle, and a series of clawing nails at each other – and from what I could see, the smaller one was completely being destroyed.

I tried to see more, but the snob-fairies were getting rowdier by the second, hitting me in the jaw and cheek as they jumped up and pumped their fists with excitement. I was about to shove them aside when I heard someone call my name. I backed up a step and looked around.

“Dude, over here!” Trent called, waving his arm at me from an open space in a corner, almost near the wall. I quickly went to him, absent-mindedly hitting the humongous head of one of the fairies, and slipped my way through. When I got to him, we ducked through the thrashing limbs and bodies of another array of wild students and sneaked to the front; crouched to our knees.

“What’s going on, man?” I asked him, shoving an arm out of my way that almost hit me in the head again.

“Not sure, but I think someone’s making a mess outta somebody – bigtime. Look at all the hype!” he exclaimed, grinning stupidly as we pushed our way through legs and legs of students. As we reached the front, we immediately stood up and looked to where the crowd’s focus was on, our eyes growing wide with the scene we caught sight of.

The white shirt guy appeared to be Davis – who’s pounding the shit out of a kid I’m sure I hadn’t had the chance of knowing. I guess he was a new one – ‘fresh meat’ – as they would say. The kid was covering his head with his arms, scratching and kicking at Davis – trickles of blood coming down from his mouth. He was struggling and thrashing with all his might; trying to land, at least, one punch or kick on Davis’s body.  

Trent was already cheering along with the crowd, rooting for Davis all the way. Even though I’m used to seeing this kind of activity around Bullworth, as I do them myself, I can’t help but feel sorry for the new kid. Geez, he was clutching his body like he was holding on to the very last thread of his life for God’s sake! And if that didn’t count for something, I don’t know what will. Looking for someone to agree with me, I grabbed Trent by the arm and told him that we should stop Davis’s mad rampage before it got worse.

But he only gave me a weird look and shrugged.

“Why the hell would you want to do that?” he asked disbelievingly, as if I’d gone crazy or something. “Dude, chill out – Davis ain’t gonna kill the kid. He’s just giving him a taste of the old Bullworth spirit.”

After a worried look at me for a slight second, he shrugged and went back to cheering in on them as I groaned and continued to watch; my mind saying I should go do something about this but my body doing the opposite and staying glued to its spot. Oh, man. Where was Jimmy when you need him?

I watched for a few more minutes, my whole body itching to do something – anything – to stop the beating. But if I did do something, what would my friends think? What would they think of me? What will others think of me? What – Aaaah, hell. 

I need to stop this.

Waiting for Jimmy or for some miracle to happen won’t help the kid from Davis’s pummeling fists, so I gathered my shit up and marched to where they’re rolling on the ground. I dodged the limbs that went flying my way and got a hold of Davis’s shirt, took a tight grip on it, and pulled him off of the kid, taking the chance to slide my arms under his pits and hold him up by the shoulders. Davis kept kicking and punching the air, and I’m sure I heard gasps and murmurs run through the crowd like wildfire. I glanced at Trent and I saw this funny, stupefied look on his face – I’m sure he’s also confused of what I was doing, ‘cause I sure as hell was, too.

Davis flailed around violently, trying to get a glimpse of who was holding him up and directing his punches at me this time. I was lucky to evade the first three punches, but not quite lucky with the last two. I hope I don’t get another permanent black eye from this.

“Davis, cut it out! It’s me, Tom!” I shouted, realizing that I could’ve calmed him down already if I had introduced myself in the first place.

“WHAT THE HELL – TOM?! LET GO OF ME!” he roared, eyeing the kid still lying on the pavement. “That kid needs a dose of ass-whooping!”

I wasn't about to give him another chance of having a go at the kid so I pulled him up higher, his shirt rumpling upwards as he tried to break free. “I SAID LET GO OF ME, TOM! GADAMMIT!”

“Like hell I will! Stop it, the kid’s already had enough!” And really, I wasn’t kidding. The kid was looking like a thousand buffalos just ran over him - leaving him coughing and writhing on the cracked cement like a soiled, pathetic taco.

“ALRIGHT, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!” All the noise that went with the commotion immediately stopped, as a voice shouted out all the way from the back of the crowd. The circle of students watching the fight immediately looked behind and froze – seeing the boss pissed as hell was never a good thing.

“Who the fuck started this shit?” Jimmy demanded, storming his way through and shoving onlookers aside blocking his path.

Everyone was still and wide-eyed, exchanging fidgety glances while waiting on that brave someone to speak up and dared to tell him the details. He pushed his way through until he got to the middle -- stopping midway when he saw me, Davis and the bloodied, new kid on the ground. His eyes went to the kid first, then to us, then to the kid again, then back – and I was thankful that Davis finally stopped thrashing around, and was looking more like a little kid caught by his mommy doing something ‘not very nice’. 

I saw Jimmy’s jaw set as his frown went deeper, and I knew right then that we seriously ticked him off. I know someone’s gonna have to be at the receiving end of it – but I just hope it won’t be me.

“All of you – SCRAM! GET OUTTA HERE!” he ordered, and everyone was suddenly up and about, leaving no trace that they were even there, and disappeared in a flash. It was funny watching them scramble around and bump into each other, hurrying and scurrying their scrawny, whiny asses to leave and get out of Jimmy’s sight.

“FASTER!”

Davis started to struggle out of my grasp and I let him -- but still kept an eye out just in case he tried to sneak another hit at the kid. He snorted and fixed his clothes, wiping the little blood that oozed from his lip after, which was probably the only injury he got from the brawl. Jimmy waited until the vicinity was cleared before turning to us and spoke.

“Okay, tell me. What the hell happened here?” He crossed his arms and scowled. “Anyone care to explain?”

Before either of us can answer, though – for the kid was barely conscious to even speak up, I think – we heard the sound of a pebble rolling on the ground, as if someone had kicked it, and a slightly audible curse came from just behind the wall.

“Where do you think you’re going, Trent?” Jimmy called out, not even turning around to see who it actually was.

Davis and I cocked our heads to look behind him, and there we saw Trent slowly emerge from the wall, where I think he was hiding to eavesdrop on us, and chuckled nervously.

“O-oh, hey there, Jim!” he greeted, smiling sheepishly as he slowly backed away. “Nice seeing ‘ya. Well, it’s getting pretty late. I guess I better get –”

“Get your ass over here.”

Trent sighed and looked defeated – if only I wasn’t this ass-deep on Jimmy’s bad side, I would’ve laughed at his face. He dragged his feet forwards and stopped just a few meters away from Jimmy, his eyes glued to the whimpering kid.

“So, as I was saying, care to tell me what happened and why’d you suddenly beat the shit out of this kid for no fucking apparent reason?” he asked again.

Man, was he scary.

Davis fidgeted and looked elsewhere, distracting himself to avoid having to answer that, as if Jimmy would just magically disappear if he ignored him. I could tell he was in a right amount of nervous – if it was me, I sure as hell would be. Though, we’re in good terms – well, tolerable terms – with him most of the time, he still didn't stand for any of the shit we did. So every time he comes running after us, we know our asses are in grave danger of a total beat-down.

“Well?” he growled, eyes focused on Davis who was biting his inner lip as he glared at the ground.

I nudged him by the elbow to get his attention and then gave him a sharp look.

“Man, tell him already,” I hissed, actually a little pissed that he wasn’t going nuts in defending himself like he used to. “What’re you waiting for – a fist down your throat?”

“The fuck am I going to tell him?” Davis hissed back. “That I fucking punched the kid for being stupid-looking? He’ll roast my ass over a fucking fire, dude!”

“You should’ve thought of that before you started swinging your fists, idiot,” I told him. His eyes narrowed after that and I knew he was cursing me with every fiber he had in his body. Davis is too stubborn at times that even I stress over it.

“Hey. I’m right here, dimwits,” Jimmy said, calling our attention. “Why don’t you just say it to my face rather than relaying your half-assed excuse to Tom there. What, ya want to call your lawyers up or somethin’?”

I looked back at Davis and pursed my lips, pointing them at Jimmy as I slightly nod my head forwards. There was a scowl etched on my face, which was probably now equal to what Jimmy always wore – well, I dunno, I don’t like keeping eye contact with Hopkins when he’s apeshit pissed.

“Dude, I’m not a lawyer. Talk.”

© 2013

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#canis canem edit #bully scholarship edition #bully canis canem edit #bully #tom gurney #bully cce #i kind of made this like a hole for everything tom gurney is #and it's set after jimmy becomes official royalty in bullworth #so i made him as op as he was featured in the last chapter before gary turned everything to shit #happy halloween