Ryan fell to the ground with a dull thud. He didn't have time to shake off his landing before Urie was tugging at his arm.

"Get a move on, Ross! Spence can only keep that guy talking for so long." The other boy exclaimed.

Ryan nodded as he quickly scrambled to his feet. Urie had already released his arm and was running along the building, towards the back of the school. Ryan did his best to follow, but running wasn't exactly his forte. He didn't stray too far behind the darker haired boy, thankfully, and wound up finding himself in the student parking lot.

There were scattered vehicles across the lot. Some shined so bright that they made Ryan's eyes hurt. Others, however, were obvious hand-me-downs; not necessarily old, but definitely not new either. One vehicle didn't fit either category. A rusted, orange truck was parked off to the side of the lot by itself. It had dents to hell that the other cars almost seemed afraid to catch, due to their distance.

Ryan didn't think there was a way that rust bucket could run, but Urie was making his way over to the isolated corner.

"You coming or what?" Urie shot over his shoulder, "Gotta go grab Spence in a drive by."

"D-drive by?" Ryan asked. In the back of his head he pictured an actual criminal drive by shooting, but the other boy's laughter didn't seem to fit the situation.

Urie turned around, but continued walking backwards towards the truck. "He's gunna hop in without me stopping." He winked, bringing a heat to Ryan's cheeks. "Hurry up."

Ryan willed his feet to move faster so that he could catch up to the darker haired boy. Why he was still following him, despite the well worth it option to just go home, wasn't exactly clear to Ryan. There was just something about the rule breaker that dragged Ryan in.

Urie hopped into the drivers seat while Ryan climbed into the passenger side. As he was shutting his door, Urie got the truck to roar to life. A mixture of excitement and mischief gleamed in his eye. He shifted gears and began to drive, at a bit of a fast speed, out of the lot.

Ryan looked down at the bench seat. It was old and worn, but kept together. However, it didn't seem to have one important thing.

"Are there any seatbelts?" Ryan asked as the truck went over a speed bump, sending him into the air a bit.

"Not in this baby." Urie replied as they began to drive along the sidewalk lining their school, "She's such an old model that they didn't make 'em for her."

Ryan nodded as they hit a pot hole, sending him up from his seat once again. He was afraid he'd hit the ceiling soon enough.

"Scoot closer." The darker hair boy suddenly said.

Ryan's head snapped over to him in questioning. He wanted Ryan closer?

"Make room for Spence." The driver added. Ryan suddenly felt a wave of stupidity wash over him. Move over for his friend, of course. The drive by thing.

Ryan slid towards Urie, giving his friend plenty of room to jump in. A wide grin plastered itself on Urie's face as a boy in a leather jacket and stubble on his face suddenly appeared, running towards the street. The vehicle slowed just enough to give his friend the opportunity to open the dented door and hop inside. He slid across the bench seat, slightly pushing Ryan against Urie.

"Holy shit!" The newcomer laughed as he slammed his door shut, "That was one hell of a run today. I think the new security girl likes me." He winked as he adjusted into his seat with a laugh.

The boy driving the car laughed as well. "Hit that shit if you can, Spence." He encouraged.

Spence laughed with the clap of his hands. This entire time, he hadn't turned from the window to his side or the windshield. Now that he turned, he seemed surprised that another body sat between himself and the driver.

"Oh, Spence, this is a kid that joined the jailbreak." The Urie boy grinned.

"Ryan Ross." Ryan offered, sticking out his hand.

"Spencer Smith." The other boy introduced himself with the shake of Ryan's hand and a nod. He looked between Ryan and the boy driving with curiosity. "Is he getting a tattoo too, Brendon?"

So the guy's name was Brendon. Ryan repeated the name a few times, attempting to mark it to memory, when the other half of Spencer's sentence sunk in. Tattoos? Why they hell were they going to get tattoos!?

"I dunno." Brendon replied. The truck was slowing for a stop sign, so Brendon took the opportunity to look at Ryan. "You ever had any skin ink before?"

Ryan fought to keep his eyes at a normal size as he shook his head. He had heard that tattoos hurt. Not only that, he was still in school! Surely that had to be in violation of some dress code rule...

Although, ditching detention wasn't the most in the books thing to do in the situation they had been in...

"You wanna?" Brendon asked with an animated grin, "My buddy does real good work. His garage is totally decked out."

"Garage tattoos?"

"Hey, are you the Ryan Ross that threw the first punch at Thomson?" Spencer interjected, pointing at Ryan.

That was definitely going to follow him for awhile. "Yea, that was me..." Ryan admitted, softly.

"Dude, that was sick!" Spencer exclaimed. He held his hand up before adding, "High five!"

Ryan let out a laugh as he slapped his hand against Spencer's. He had never been encouraged for a fight before. These two were definitely far from the ordinary type Ryan hung out with.

"Celebrate with some skin ink." Brendon chimed in with a smile that looked like a fish hook had caught one corner of his mouth, raising it higher than the other.

"It won't be something stupid like a tribal butterfly or something, will it?" Ryan asked, nervously. He wasn't sure if he would get to pick the tattoo or have it picked for him.

Spencer let out a sound that resembled a horse letting air past its lips. "Unless you're into that sort of thing."

Ryan's cheeks heated from embarrassment as the two boys around him laughed. He didn't know... He had never been anywhere near a tattoo needle.

"You tell my boy what you like and he can have it on you in no time." Brendon said as he turned his truck down the start of a suburb.

Ryan bit his lip. He didn't feel there was a way out of it, having gone this far already. He was now considering places to hide any 'skin ink' as Brendon called it.

He had never really considered what kind of markings he wanted permanently decorating his body. It was a big question to even consider. It would mark this point in his life forever...

"You're gunna drive past Hall's place!" Spencer complained, bringing Ryan out of his thoughts.

"You're gunna walk the rest of the way if you don't zip it." Brendon shot back as he maneuvered the old vehicle, in a way that shouldn't of been possible, into a parallel parking position along the sidewalk.

They were pulled in front of a single story, gray house. There was a pine tree in the front yard that cast a large shadow over the house. The light colored garage door was cracked, releasing the sound of alternative music beats that rattled the windows of the truck.

Brendon and Spencer eagerly pushed their doors open. Ryan looked between the two as they slipped out of the truck. He began sliding out Spencer's door, but jumped back as it was slammed shut. He frowned. Rude. He instead shifted to slide himself out from Brendon's side.

He shut the door and hurried after the boys, who were already making their way over to the garage. Brendon made it first, and promted himself to bang his fist against the metal of the garage door.

"Zack! Open the fuck up!" He hollered after four bangs of his fist against the door. He backed up and crossed his arms.

A hollered response could be heard, but it was hard to make out over the music. Ryan waited behind Brendon and Spencer as different bangs and creaks could be heard from inside. It took a few minutes, but soon the metal door jerked and began to pull up.

The music level dropped significantly as the door creeper higher. It was revealing a man with dark hair and a bushy beard. He was built in a way that may not have been the most athletic, but he could successfully tackle someone if need be. Ryan's eyes widened at the sight of him.

Brendon and Spencer, however, laughed at the sight of him, going in for fist bumps and bro hugs.

"Zack, my man!" Brendon grinned as he pulled out of his hug with the man, "You got the ink ready?"

"Had it ready for fifteen minutes." Zack replied, crossing his arms. "You're late."

"Had detention."

"When don't you have detention?"

"When I ditch the day entirely."

Spencer groaned, "Can we get to the tattoos already? I'm supposed to be home by five for a thing."

Zack nodded with a softly muttered "mama's boy" as Brendon clapped his fingers together like a jabber jaw. The older of the four gestured them inside, leading Ryan to take his first full look around the room. There was a pool table right in the middle with a stain glass fixture designed with some alcohol company's logo hanging over it. There was a lazy boy recliner off to the side with a small table right next to it. There was a mini fridge on each side of the room, and a nice stereo system next to the door that presumably lead into the house.

"Hold up." Ryan felt a jab to his gut. His eyes snapped forward to see that Zack was holding a pool stick to his lower abdomen. "Who's this?"

"He's with me, Zack." Brendon replied, cooly. He had hopped up onto the pool table and was letting his feet kick over the edge absently. "He's getting some ink too, for his big fight today." The darker haired boy winked.

Zack still had narrowed eyes on Ryan, but seemed to accept Brendon's words. He let out a soft him before pulling the pool stick back, propping it by his side, and holding out a hand to Ryan. "Name's Zack Hall."

Ryan held out his hand to the bigger man, "Ryan Ross." He said, trying to speak as cooly as possible. However, keeping it cool was hard when there was a grip like Zack's on your hand. It was like a vice.

"Come on in." Zack invited when he, to Ryan's relief, released his hand. Ryan was starting in when Zack authoritatively pointed a finger at him. "You rat me out for anything, you're a dead man, got it?" The man warned.

Ryan nodded, holding back a nervous burst of hysterical laughter. "Got it."

"Glad we understand each other." Zack nodded. He now seemed completely fine and nonthreatening. He casually walked over to a wall and hit a button, bringing the garage door back down with the whining of gears. "So, let's get some ink flowing."