"'Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you you. Happy birthday to Jen. Happy birthday to you.' I blow out the brightly lit candles with the number 6 on them as instructed. 'Make a wish!'
'What you wish for?' My grandpa asks
'You know I can't tell!' I say stealing his nose before running off with my laughter filling the air. 'You can't catch me. I got your nose!'
'Thank you mommy, this was the best birthday ever!' I ran and gave my mommy a big hug.
'I love you sweetie.'"
Of course every time I walk through these damned hallways, at least once a day I steal someone's happy memory. I hate seeing their reactions when it happens. Why? Because they almost always like freeze in place for a second and shiver a little bit (kinda like when I pee). Their face is the worst it looks like they just got murdered or something. I don't know why this happens. I really don't understand why or how I have this power, all I know is that I despise it. This damn curse thing has created my life to be a living hell. Ever since... No. I can't think of it. I won't!
Thankfully on cue, I heard the unfamiliar sound of my text message alert.
From Dad:
Hey, Troye can you stop by Starbucks and get some coffee for your mother and I on your way home from school?
Fuck. I hate people. Not saying I hate my family, no. I hate people interactions, such as going to Starbucks. Either I make a fool of myself, someone judges me, or I steal someone's happy memories. Realizing I have been siting in my car for over 5 minutes now without answering, and dwelling over my life, I decided I should text back.
To dad:
Sure. What do you want me to get?
I lock my phone and sit it in the passenger seat. After that I drive to the nearest Starbucks. Which isn't that far away from where we live in California. I'm such a waste of space for this happy, busy place.
I arrive at the nearest Starbucks and run inside quickly, ready to get the hell out of public and get home and back to the internet. As I walk over to the line I get a message, and unlock my phone to see my dads order.
To dad:
Ok, be ther-
"What the hell?" I screech as I feel a hot liquid on me and my baby falls to the ground. Priorities Troye. Dry this freaking drink that is freaking burning my skin. I walk over to the counter and ask for napkins. Who the fuck does this person think they are?! Run into me, and not ask if 'I'm ok', or say a simple 'I'm sorry'. What the actual fuck. This is why I'm so antisocial. (Besides the fact I steal happiness.)
I looked up to see where and what happened to my phone, to see a kind of small guy with a vibrant blue colored hair quiff and black glasses framing his bluey-green eyes perfectly. Perfectly? No Troye, you can't do this! This guy (that goes un named and will stay like that) just poured one hundred-five degree coffee all over me and didn't even say something about it! He looks familiar, but maybe he just has one of those faces.
"Excuse me?" I say a little sassyness coming out into my voice. He blushed under my intense staring. Hmmm, that's different.
"Oh... Um... Sorry...my names T-" I cut him of
"I don't care what your name is. You just spilt hot coffee all over me and didn't ask if I needed any help. At. All."
"I'm sorry. I just saw your wallpaper and was pretty mesmerized I guess." I could tell that it was a lie, (mainly because it is literally a picture of my family dog, Jagger,but I figured that I had put him through enough, with making him feel bad and flustered and all.
"Whatever. It's fine." I say rolling my eyes.
"Well umm... Here's your phone, there's no cracks or anything." He stopped before continuing, as if in thought. "And by the way this case is hella cute."
He handed it to me, but of course our hands brushed against one another. Thankfully, I didn't get the stinging feeling in my hand, accompanied by the lovely 'gift' of stealing happiness.
"Order for Troye?"
I start to walk away to the counter to get the order.
"Troye,huh?"
"No! It's Jerimison!" I say sarcastically.
"Oh it is, I thought you said Troye. Hmm. I'll just change this on the coffee." The lady at the counter intervened. I legitimately face-palmed.
"Ok." I say laughing, shaking my head.
"Look, I have to go." This mystery, blue haired boy reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder. Fuck.... Not again.....
A/N~ Ok so I know that this is late, but a lot of crappy crap happened, so yeah. Happy Thanksgiving, and Black Friday shopping, if you are! Stay safe for the holidays! Them people be cray cray! (I promise I know English!) Love y'all to pieces! Oh also I may double update, as in finishing the rest of this one. Do you guys like longer chapter? If so I may try to do longer ones. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!~J
Ps- My social (ha!) media!
Twitter~ @AldersonYahoo
Instagram~ jilly_sizzle_slice (don't judge me!)
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Empty Hearts?
RandomTroye is depressed. He also has a 'gift' that is supposed to makes him happy, but he hates everything about it. When he comes into contact with anyone, he steals one of that persons happy dreams, hopes, or memories.
