The lanky teenage boy kicked the edge of his bed hard, cussing loudly.
"Dammit!" He shouted, kicking the bed again.
He'd been assigned a roommate, Daniel Worsnop. Not only was he extremely anti-social, and not only did he hate everyone he'd ever met in his entire life, he didn't know this boy at all, never seen him or spoken to him or even heard about him in his time on this planet. And, never did he think that him, of all people would be given a roommate.
Nobody here knew him, but they knew him well enough to know that he was violent, intolerant, and was impulsive.
"A fucking roommate?" He asked himself, not realizing the door had open and someone had walked in, until he stopped pacing and turned around, his eyes locking with those of the boy who'd apparently been watching him. He tried not to laugh, after all, he thought it to be funny that he'd just shown his anger to someone he'snever known, no doubt scaring him enough to not mess with him.
"Er," the other boy began, awkwardly. "I'm Danny." He introduced himself politely, but in a way that showed Ben that he wasn't going to let him get away with being a dick.
"I know." He said simply, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Do you know who I am?" He asked bitterly, in an intimidating tone.
"Benjamin Bruce, duh? That's what they told me and that's what the door says.." The boy retaliated, just as bitterly, a thick layer of sarcasm shone through his words, which only pissed Ben off.
"It's Ben." He said, grabbing his black sweatshirt and walking out of the room, not before giving the boy a death glare.
;; danny ;;
Note to self, he thought, Ben has anger issues and is not in the mood to make friends today.
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed that was apparently his, he pulled his journal out of his backpack looked at the first page. He'd never written actual music, just the lyrics. He was obsessed with writing lyrics, his thoughts, his mood, his feelings, he could almost always turn it into a song.
For some reason, he couldn't come up with anything right now so he just settled on picking at a loose string on his torn jeans, and absentmindedly changing the song on his iPod. Glancing at the notebook that was now next to him on the bed, he picked up his pen again. He had no inspiration, but he decided to take a few notes on how he felt and what he thought, just in case he'd be able to have any ideas later. After about an hour of waiting in curiosity for his roomate, Danny decided to take a quick nap to pass the time.
