"Oh you mean your cool parents?" (pt. one) :THE DEAD POETS/CHARLIE DALTON:

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You and all the other students of Welton shuffled into the conference hall/church. You knew that every here was in for it, especially you and the Dead Poets if they found out it was you lot who were in the club and published that newspaper article. You followed Pitt's into a row, sitting close to him, trying to hide from the educators in the room. 'It's okay, relax.' Meeks whispered to you, sitting up from his seat and leaning into your ear. You smiled at him and nodded, figuring he was right. Out of all people you knew Todd and you were safe from being targeted as the ones who published that article. Todd was safe because... he's Todd. You were safe because your parents were rich and donated large sums of money to the school at the beginning of every school year. You were personally untouchable. 

But just because they were rich and you were a trust fund baby that was set for life, that didn't make you or your parents stuck up and too good for anyone. You had a wonderful relationship with your parents. Their names were Dorothy and Silas (Y/L/N). They never forced you to do anything you didn't want to, they were proud of you, they encouraged you, they loved you, and most of all they loved your friends. In a way, your parents were also your friends parents. They knew about all of their home lives and how they weren't ideal so they treated all of your friends as family. They constantly called you and when they did they'd say goodbye by saying, 'Say hi to Neil, Todd, Knox, Charlie, Steven, Richard, and Gerard for us!' They knew all of their names, all of their families, and all of their stories. Sometimes they'd even ask to speak to one of them. Your mother had the best relationship with Todd, Pitts, and Meeks. Your mother had a very soft angelic touch to her, just what Todd needed. And she was also a engineering professor at the University of Vermont so she constantly talked to Pitts and Meeks about their newest projects. Your father on the other hand had the best relationship with Neil. Your father grew up in a poor southern town with a drunk for a father and a mother who ran away with the towns milk man when he was fourteen. Being that his childhood was so hard, he really knew how to pull Neil out of his depressive and suicidal states when his father was cracking down on him. Your father was a restaurant manager for a restaurant in New York City. Your dad got to see Hollywood's biggest actors and celebrities because his restaurant was booming with popularity, so Neil always liked to hear stories about all of the socialites that were in and out of his humbalabode. 

You sat listening to Mr. Nolan as he talked about what a total outrage the 'Dead Poets Society' entry in the newspaper was. You just sat, not being able to wait until this meeting was over so you could tell your parents about it. Just as you began to fully tune out the sound of Nolan's hellish voice, someone stood up. All of the eyes in the room moved to this brave soul. Of course, the brave but utterly stupid soul was your best friend, Charlie Dalton. You buried your eyes in your hand, feeling your face flush of all color. Charlie pulled a ringing phone to his ear and his eyes beamed with joy. 

"Mr. Nolan, it's for you!" He exclaimed holding the phone out in front of him, stretching to Nolan who was across the room, "It's God!" You sighed and couldn't lift your head. You just turned it to Todd who sat across of you and behind you in another pew, asking him with your eyes if he was hearing what you were hearing. He shrugged and looked at his shiny shoes. "He says we should have more girls at Welton..." Charlie stupidly spoke finally. You covered your entire face, bending over onto your lap so no one could see you. Pitts put his hand on your back, tapping it in comfort. 

That was when the meeting was put on hold. Kids were escorted one way, Charlie was pulled in another. The Poets and you watched him as Nolan yanked him further and further into the disappearing horizon of the Welton Hall. You walked with all of them but constantly turning your head over your shoulder, attempting to watch Charlie and make sure he was somewhat safe. You knew he wasn't. As long as you've been friends with him, you always felt differently towards him. More protective, more affectionate, more safe. Yeah he was your best friend and your hell raiser partner in crime but if he wanted to be more than friends, you wouldn't mind. You didn't know if you were in love with him or just had a small crush on him. Either way, you felt indifferent about your emotions. All you knew in that moment was that Charlie was in for it and you couldn't do anything about it. 

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