It isn't a problem that Dan clearly doesn't like me. Not one that a drink can't temporarily solve, at least. I'm not supposed to be bothered by this. I shouldn't care that the pastel boy doesn't like the punk, that's how it works. He's too good for me, in a friend way obviously, I'm straight. I may have never thought about girls in a romantic or sexual way, but that's because every girl I know is a bitch.
I walk through my flat, entering the kitchen and taking out a beer. I hardly ever drink, I'm seventeen, but I do sometimes, and this is one of those times. I don't want to end up like my parents, drinking so much that they forget they have responsibilities and a 16-year-old son to take care of. It's been a year since I ran away from my shitty family, taking the crap tonne of money that my rich grandparents left behind for me for when they died. I didn't move far, meaning that I could stay at the same school, which isn't exactly a good thing. My parents don't live here anymore though, not anywhere. My life isn't going to be like there's. I'll find a good wife and not fuck up my son or daughters childhood.
The soothing liquid falls down my throat, me taking a seat on my sofa and turning on the tv, the screen greeting me with a Disney film. I reckon I'm a sorry excuse for a punk, being that I really want to watch it.
Two movies later and my one bottle of beer still just about hanging on, a few drops left in the bottle because I'm trying to make it last, and I decide to call this night to an end, meaning I have a whole weekend of doing nothing in particular as I laze around my flat and trying to forget about how I fucked up today. Friendship really isn't for me.
Before laying down in bed, I take a look in the mirror. I love my face piercings they make me feel like me, a septum and snake bites, accompanied by an eyebrow bar, which is the most recent. I pull off my shirt, revealing my average looking body, but the best part is the tattoos, or maybe the belly button piercing. A constellation is spread across my shoulder, collar bones, and then reaching my other shoulder; because my sister always loved stars, and I'd like to remember her, despite not seeing her for years. Going down from the constellation, my arms are covered in tattoos that mainly consist of animals, my favourite being a snake that winds around one arm. I wonder if Dan would ever get a tattoo- fuck. Even alcohol can't get some stupid boy out of my mind. It's nothing, though, he's just a little interesting so instinctively I want to know more about him. This means nothing, we'll never be friends.
ESTÀS LLEGINT
TOO GOOD ; Phan
Fanfiction"Too good to be good for me, Too bad that that's all I need." //Some chapter will have TW written at the top if I decide they need a trigger warning// [COMPLETED]
