Chapter One: Teen Turmoil

Fortunately, after years of tinkering and adjusting, Waylon's teeth had finally begun to cooperate. He had just gotten his braces off the day before and was feeling quite confident in himself all day, more so than he had in a long time. It was a small thing, but in such formative years of a young man's life, a small thing such as having braces removed was a real boost to his self-esteem and in his view, it took him one tiny step away from nerdville. He unconsciously caught himself walking a little more proudly than before, his gait a little more confident with every step.

School had just let out and Waylon just couldn't wait to head over to Mr. Burns' manor to show off his new set of perfectly straight, pearly whites. Clad in his impeccably neat, unwrinkled white shirt and his characteristic purple bow-tie, Waylon exited the double doors as fellow students jostled their way past him, school bells chiming in the distance. He stopped halfway down the steps, watching as a couple of carefree guys in the parking lot shoved each other around, laughing and carrying on before getting into their cars and driving away. He didn't even have his driver's permit yet, but that didn't stop him from dreaming of having his own car one day. Then, he'd be able to drive to Mr. Burns' place any time he wished in style. Certainly a car would be more impressive than the old hand-me-down girl's bike his mother had given him.

His mother, as well as her intentions were, was rather neglectful, being too far gone into her depression after her husband passed away. Even fifteen years after the fact, had done little to diminish the anguish she felt over the loss of her beloved. Waylon couldn't say that he'd ever really mourned his father's death, being only a wee infant when he died, but he did feel a sad for his mother and all of the friends his father had left behind to mourn his absence.

One person in particular that had been deeply affected by his death had been his father's boss, Mr. Burns. The man had been the one constant in his life since the beginning and at times, it seemed as if he had spent more time with him than he had with his own mother. A sudden shove from behind brought him back to reality as he stood on the front steps of Springfield High.

"Hey! Move it nancy-boy, before I have to ruin that pretty little metal face o' yers!" came a gruff, masculine voice from behind. He cringed at the sound since it was a voice that was usually accompanied by pain soon afterward. He didn't know what possessed him, but he suddenly felt a need to speak up to his tormentor.

"Sorry Jimmy, but my pretty face is no longer available for ruining. Thanks for the compliment though." Waylon smirked defiantly, turning to face the ginger-haired brute.

"Wait a minute." said Jimmy, moving closer and staring at him quizzically. "You got all that metal yanked off your teeth didn't you?"

"So you noticed?" Waylon asked.

"Well you must think yer some hot-shot now hm? Tryin' to look all prettified for your little boyfriend hm?"

He wasn't really sure why his face was turning so red. He didn't have a boyfriend or even a girlfriend really, not even a first kiss yet, but there here stood, his face becoming as red as his tormenter's ginger hair. Jimmy continued laughing and pretty soon a couple of Jimmy's friends stopped over to join in the merriment.

Everyone kept insisting that he was gay even though he never outwardly showed any attraction towards the same gender. At least if he did, he didn't think it was all that obvious. Sure, he had had a couple of fantasies about guys occasionally, but how could they possibly know that? How could anyone possibly know that he'd had a couple of fantasies about a few of his male classmates? Or more recently, about Mr. Burns? Maybe it showed too much? The thought only fueled his paranoia even further.

"Hey Jimmy... why do you always call me and pansy and... and all those other names?" Smithers asked, his voice accidentally going rather timid at the end as he thought of much worse insults that Jimmy and his boorish friends had thrown at him.

"'Cause man... yer about as queer-ass-gay as they come!" he replied, pushing Waylon in the chest with his hand in a very less than playful way, Waylon's feet shuffled backwards a couple of steps from the impact.

"Hey! Knock it off Jimmy!" a girl suddenly pushed her way between them. Her name was Meredith and she was a snobbish rich girl with waist-length black hair and that's all he knew about her since he'd hardly spoken more than a few words to her the whole year. She was very lovely however and Waylon wondered that maybe there might be more to her than just the preppy socialite with the somewhat charming southern accent. "Just go would you? I've just been dying to have a word alone with Wallace here all day!"

"Oh? Why you want to talk to that four-eyed freak for anyhow?" Jimmy asked.

"If you must know, I was going to ask him to accompany me to the junior prom. Not that it's any of your concern." said Meredith haughtily.

"What? Oh hell no!" Jimmy bellowed, clinching his fists at his sides. Waylon gulped as he watched seemingly every muscle tense on the hulking sixteen-year-old, far to large for his own good. "You were supposed to go with me remember?" Jimmy reminded Meredith, his voice tinged with anger and maybe even hurt.

"Really... I don't even know how to dance." Smithers interrupted meekly. "Besides, I wouldn't want to interfere with any... prior commitments..."

"You're damn right! You ain't interferin' in anything!" The next thing he knew, he saw Jimmy lunge for him. Before he even had any time to react, he felt the brute force of unrestrained rage unleashed as knuckles came into contact with his face. He fell down to the concrete steps beneath him. His face, which was already tender from the removal of his braces, was now throbbing from pain, the coppery taste of blood indicating the sheer damaging force behind that punch. It had all happened so fast, his mind was completely blank.

"Jimmy! How could you!" Meredith cried as she bent down to Waylon's level. He was too much in shock to do anything other that sit there and hold his hand to his sore face, the whole right side of which burned with intense pain.

"Wallace! Are you okay?" Meredith shrieked. His eyes were blurry with tears and as he looked up, her face was all a hazy blur, light distorted at the edges of his vision.

"The n-name's... W-Waylon" he stuttered, barely able to get out the words as his jaw had become numb.

"Oh, sorry." She quickly apologized. An awkward silence ensued before she spoke again. "So you want to go with me?" She asked in that almost sickeningly charming, 'sweet tea' voice of hers. Couldn't she see that he was still sitting there in excruciating pain?

"Well... the prom... it just isn't my sort of thing." Waylon replied apologetically. "You should go with one of the more..." Waylon paused, struggling for an appropriate word, "more well-liked, popular guys."

"No way! Sure you're still a little nerdy, but cute none-the-less. I'll be doing you a favor ya know! It'll be a will boost for you and everyone will be absolutely envious when they see you with me!" Meredith giggled. Yeah, Jimmy will be really jealous which is probably the only result she cared about.

He looked up at her in disbelief. Was this girl daft? He really had no desire to be popular, his jaw was throbbing with pain and she wanted to do him a favor by gracing him with her popularity? He stood up without another word, brushed off his clothes and turned to walk away.

"But Wayne!" Meredith voice called from behind causing him to stop in his tracks. "Are you going to go with me or not?" Waylon stopped in his tracks, hesitating before he spoke. He turned around, his hand twitching, almost reaching for her hands, but decided not to at the last moment.

"I can't. You deserve someone better than just some... nancy-boy." he said, in a rather self depreciating, mocking tone, struggling with the last word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Sure the girl was immature and as superficial as could be, but he couldn't just tactlessly turn her down like that without at least some sort of common courtesy. A girl like her just wasn't accustomed to rejection, especially from someone like himself.

"Mmm... m-kay! Call me if you change you're mind!" She giggled before running off to the parking lot.

Waylon stood there dumbfounded for a moment. Such a blasé tone she had when he was all but fishing for a little complement from her. Perhaps an, 'Aw, stop insulting yourself Waylon.' would have been nice.

His face hurt like hell; so much so that his eyes still watered from the searing pain. He dreaded getting a look at himself in the mirror. As he leaned over to unchain his bike, he tried to forget the pain and focus on the fact that soon, he'd be at Burns' place and the man always had a ton of chores for him to do, none of which he minded of course. All he ever wanted was to make Mr. Burns happy so chores were no problem for one so blinded by love.

He wasn't really sure when his infatuation with the man had began or what even spurred it on. Whether it be teen-aged hormones, a case of puppy-love or just plain lust, he wasn't sure. Lately, just the site of Mr. Burns, his authoritative presence and his eccentric ways, was enough to set his heart ablaze and it was all so confusing, and completely encompassing.

Every little bit of gratitude the man threw his way, whether it be a brief smile or pat on the back, it was all well worth the effort. His enthusiasm; however, was short lived. As much as he wanted to show off his new smile to Mr. Burns all day, now his face would most likely be bruised and a swollen, ruining any gains he may have made in the looks department.

A.N. - This was originally posted on deviant art and it's just a quick, short chapter I wrote to start off a new story. I think it will get better now that the beginning has been established. I changed the chapter title for the third time just because I finally found a title that fit. xD