LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Rebellion, Love, and Wednesdays by mermaid_life87

The First Wednesday

A/N: So, before this idea popped into my head, I had sworn off chapter stories and told myself I was sticking to one-shots. Simply because, personally, I feel I do better with those. However, this idea was a stubborn one so...here we are. I do promise to finish this. It won’t be very long, probably 4-6 chapters, and the chapters themselves will most likely be on the shorter side too. I’ve accepted that length isn’t my strong suit. :p That being said, my hope is for this to be a cute Bennoda story with some slight drama for good measure. :) Hopefully, I can pull that off.


Enjoy!



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Finally, Donna Shinoda thought gratefully as her silver mini van rolled to a stop in front of the double doors of Living Word Community Church. The car ride over had been tense-exhaustingly so-filled with a thick and uncomfortable silence. She'd tried to make conversation with her eldest child but, somewhere along the way, as each and every attempt went ignored, she'd given up. He's just like his father. So damn stubborn.


"We're here." Donna announced, attempting to sound upbeat and cheerful, but failing miserably. There was no response from her seemingly frozen son, who kept his shoulders slumped and his gaze out the window. "Michael," she tried again, "we're here."


Nothing.


I really hope we're doing the right thing. We have to fix this. We have to. And I don't know what else to do. She couldn’t deny her and her husband, Muto, were in way over their heads, still reeling from the discovery of gay porn on their son's computer and the reluctant "coming out" that followed. They'd been completely blindsided and overwhelmed, latching onto religion in their frantic search for a solution.


"Michael, honey," Donna pleaded softly, "please try to understand. We just want to help you. You know, if you are confused, maybe Pastor Steve and this youth group can-"


"I'm. Not. Confused." Mike growled, not regretting the harshness of his tone. If I have to hear about how “confused” I am one more fucking time...


Startled, Donna cautioned fiercely, "Confused or not, you will watch how you speak to me. I’m still your mother. I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”


"Well, mommy dearest, feel free to stop fucking trying."


Her mouth falling open, Mrs. Shinoda could only stare in disbelief, watching as her sixteen year old, normally the epitome of respect and discipline, slammed her car door, and stormed away in a huff. Teetering between heart broken and furious, Donna’s pride was the only thing stopping her from yelling out any number of cliche parental threats. Breathe, Donna. Breathe. Everything will be okay. He’s gonna be around good kids. Good, wholesome, straight kids. She took a deep, calming breath. This will work. This has to work.


The crisp fall air sent a shiver down Mike’s spine, but he barely noticed. Chilly weather was no match for the adrenaline coursing through him, making his heart pound in his chest. All the shame and guilt he knew he should feel over his outburst and back talk wasn’t there. Just relief. Lots and lots of relief. That felt good. Really good. He could almost smile as he entered Living Word, the church where he’d be spending his Wednesday evenings from now until question mark.


They want to “fix” me. As if I’m broken. Or something bad. The brutal reality brought tears to Mike’s eyes. Having always loved and admired his parents, he hated the animosity he felt towards them as of late, but, at the same time, felt helpless against it. He hated the way they were treating him even more. His father was hardly speaking to him, only acknowledging his existence when absolutely necessary. His mother acknowledged his existence, but almost to the point of smothering, and only to poke and prod him about his sexuality. She had shoved countless pamphlets and other religious propaganda at him, all with ridiculous titles like, “What does the Bible say about homosexuality?”, and ”So you think you’re gay...”. It was infuriating. None of this shit even makes sense. We’re not religious.


Still fighting tears, Mike had made his way through the halls of the small church, absentmindedly following the signs for Cornerstone Youth Ministry. He hadn’t crossed paths with a single soul but he knew, as he stood in front of an old wooden door, that was about to change. He could hear the slightly muffled voices of numerous other teenagers, all talking and laughing at once, probably divided up into the same shallow cliques he would bet existed even within a Christian youth group. This is like adding two more hours of high school to my life every week. Only worse. He shuddered at the thought.


“You must be Michael.” A deep, but kind, voice came suddenly from the right.


Mike jumped, quickly wiping at his eyes, and turned to see a man in black slacks and a tucked in white button up approaching him. He was tall, snow white hair, and just the slightest hint of a potbelly. Mike didn’t miss the Bible clutched to his chest with his left hand.


“Sorry, son, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Pastor Steve.” Smiling, he held out his free hand and Mike obliged, the two engaging in a brief handshake. “Michael, right? Shinoda?”


He doesn’t seem so bad. He’s got a warm smile. “Yes, sir.”


“Please,” he insisted, “Steve is fine. Or Pastor Steve. Or just Pastor. Whatever.” He chuckled. “Just no sir. Makes me sound old.”


Mike nodded, almost smiling again.


“Well, Michael,” Pastor Steve began after a beat of silence, “feel free to head in and make yourself comfortable. We’re not quite ready to start but I’ll be in shortly.”


“Okay.”


“The kids are great.” He assured the nervous teen as he started down the hall. “I’m sure you’ll make a lot of new friends!”


“Friends?” Mike huffed quietly to himself. Yeah right. The youth leader might not be the ogre Mike made him out to be in his mind-so far, at least-but that didn’t mean Mike was ready to go hoping for new friends or thinking Wednesday evenings would be anything more than something he had to suffer through. He took a deep breath. Might as well get this over with.


Reluctantly, he entered what was, essentially, an ordinary classroom-there were multiple rows of school desks, a teacher’s desk off to his left, and a black board ran the entire length of the wall to his right. A wooden podium sat front and center and three square windows lined the back wall. Wanting to remain as unseen as possible, Mike’s eyes scanned the room quickly, seeking whatever seat was farthest from the action. Bingo! Making a concerted effort not to run, and attract the attention he was trying so hard to avoid, Mike made his way to a desk all the way in the back left hand corner of the room. He pulled his phone from his back pocket immediately and slouched down in his seat. Hopefully everyone just ignores me. Like they always do the new kid.


Across the room, diagonal from Mike, a red haired teen sat sideways in his seat, legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. He chatted excitedly with the young man occupying the desk behind his.


“I guess your mom was pretty pissed, uh?” Dave pointed to his long time friend’s newly acquired lip ring.


“Livid.” Chester confirmed, resisting the urge to reach up and touch the still tender piercing. “You know how she is.”


“She still complains about your flames.” Dave stated with a grin.


Chester rolled his eyes. “All the time. But when isn’t she pissed about something after I come back from my dad’s, you know? When it’s not this kinda stuff, it’s something else.”


“True.” Dave knew full well Chester’s parents had very different views on child rearing. Those differences being one of the key reasons they’d split years ago. Dave also knew Chester had taken the divorce much harder than he let on. He didn’t envy his friend’s broken home, but he did secretly wish his own father was as willing to sign consent forms for body art as Chester’s was. “Hey,” he gestured towards the back of the room, having noticed an unfamiliar face, “there’s a new kid.”


Chester followed the ginger’s gaze to a boy with red highlights in his spiked, jet black hair. To a boy with earrings, and exotic features. To a boy he decided, right then and there, he needed to talk to. Dave was talking, teasing Chester about his already obvious crush, but every playful word fell on deaf ears. Chester was miles away.


Mike, sensing he was being watched, stopped mid-text, and looked up. A second later, he locked eyes with his admirer. His admirer who blushed instantly and looked away. He’s cute. More than cute. And he was staring. At me. Mike smiled. Maybe Wednesdays won’t be so bad after all.



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Thanks for reading! Feel free to tell me what you think! :) Hoping to post new chapters weekly. We’ll see.

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