Title: Find My Purpose
Author: MoreLikeFiction
Words: 777
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General
Pairing: Roger/Collins/Mark Friendship
Summary: The story behind how Collins got to be called Collins, instead of Tom. Collins’ POV.
Notes: I had a hard time thinking of a summary for this. Sorry if this seems like my other fic from the other day, it just ended up like. Sorry it keeps rambling on but for some reason I wanted to add background information.
Warnings: Language.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything

I looked behind me at the closed door. I couldn’t believe that were doing this. I just can’t believe it. Sighing, I dropped my stuff into the trunk of my car, getting into the front seat and turning the ignition on.

I had warned my parents that I would be leaving after graduation with Mark and Roger. They never believed me. It wasn’t like I’d expect them too anyway.

I’m 18 now. I came out to my parents when I was 15 and everything since then had become sort of awkward.

I took one more glance at the closed door. I pulled out of the driveway and headed towards Roger’s house, knowing there was no way that I could go back now.

----

I sat outside Roger’s house, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Roger was the only one of the three of us that cleared it with his parents. His parents understood that he had a passion for his music and that maybe being in New York would get him where he wanted to be.

I’ve been friends with this kid since his freshman year. I met him in the lunch line once. I really don’t know what happened, but we clicked.

I looked up at Roger’s closed door. I’ve been seeing a lot of these lately, but, I smiled as I saw the familiar mane of curly hair, a guitar case in one hand, a suitcase in the other.

He opened the door, whispering a small “Hi Tom” as he got into the car. I smiled in return.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I said to him as we set off towards Mark’s house.

“Me either, but it’s going to be fucking awesome. Just you, me and Mark with New York City as our stage,” He told me.

I had to agree with him. This is pretty fucking awesome.

----

We pulled up to Mark’s house slowly and parked behind the giant bush that stood near the street. This way Mark’s parents wouldn’t be able to spot us.

Roger and I laughed slightly as we saw a window open and three suitcases plus a camera bag were placed on the roof.

“Damn that boy’s insane. He’s never gonna get all that shit off the roof by himself. Roger go help him,” I said, pushing Roger towards his door.

“Yeah, yeah I got this,” he said and smiled at me.

I watched Roger as he made his way up towards the house.

I met Mark through Roger. Roger and Mark have known each other for years, since about when Mark was 5 and Roger was 7.

When I was in my senior year, Roger’s sophomore year, Mark didn’t have the same lunch period as us. So, he was picked on a lot by the upperclassmen. Mark’s a small kid. I’m at least 6”, and he’s up to about just below my shoulders. He’s probably around 5’4” or something. I felt bad, so, I switched my lunch period to his so he wouldn’t be alone. We’ve been tight ever since.

I smiled as I saw Roger and Mark running down the hill, Roger carrying two suitcases and Mark looking like a nervous wreck.

I laughed as Mark practically dived into the back seat, staying low until we got off his street.

Roger turned around and laughed at the younger male, “Man, it’s okay, we’re free now.”

Mark sat up staring around, sighing when he realized they were definitely not on his street anymore.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he said, wiping a hand over his pale face.

“Well, as I was telling Tom here earlier, this is going to be fucking awesome.”

Mark and I laughed, both of us knowing that he was definitely right.

----

I smiled as we saw the exit sign ‘Washington St. Bridge next exit.’ Mark had fallen asleep about an hour ago and Roger was half asleep.

“Guys, we’re here,” I yelled, definitely feeling the excitement now.

Mark sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking around. “Holy shit, I can’t believe it, we’re here.”

I took a glance over at Roger who was sporting a grin from ear to ear. “We’re here Collins, we’re here.”

“What happened to calling me Tom?”

“We’re in New York City. There’s bound to be a million Tom’s here, but I’d bet ya a million bucks that you’ll be the only Collins.”

I looked over at him and smiled.

He was right. Going to New York City was like a new beginning, and in New York City, I’m going to find my purpose.

And from here on in, I'll be known as Collins. Tom Collins.