strangers. [joji & also max, but not as a ship]

1. jaded.

@idubbbz: I would greatly appreciate it if you all no longer used the n slur or f slur or r slur when referring to me. I am a huge advocate for black lives matter and faggot lives matter and retarded lives matter. Thank you for understanding and ending bigotry. Gonna smoke an entire pot bowl. Goodnight.

I smirked, pulling my fleece blanket tighter around my body, preparing to reply with something witty. But I'm an idiot so that didn't happen.

@idubbbz excuse me. As a faggot I would respectfully ask that you not appropriate fag culture by advocating for faggot lives matter. Thanks you.

I continued scrolling through my timeline, waiting for the next thing that would make me temporarily happy.

A notification flashed in a blue ribbon at the bottom of my screen.

@idubbbz liked your reply.

I admit that this made me a little giddy. God, I'm so cringy. My thoughts make me so embarrassed sometimes.

I decided to get off Twitter and put some music on, Tove Lo's new album, Blue Lips. It's hit after hit after hit, flawless album. Iconic, showstopping, amazing, never been done before, eat it, throw it up, shit on it, however that fucking meme goes.

Popping my headphones in, I dragged my blanket over to the window ledge, taking in the view of the city at night. I wouldn't want to live any other place in the world. London, Paris, Los Angeles, they're all great. But they aren't New York. I took a seat on the ledge and leaned against the wall.

I felt my eyes getting heavy about halfway through the album, and decided I better trek back over to my mattress, settled on the wood floor of my apartment. I pulled my headphones out and turned off the music, turning on Do Not Disturb and tossing my phone onto the floor before passing the fuck out. The noise of the traffic drifting in and out, the ambient horns honking and cabbies yelling at people crossing the street lulled me to sleep the way it did every night.

—

Around four thirty in the morning, I hear an intense bang followed by yelling on the other side of the paper thin wall next to my bed. Great. Go to sleep asshole. I waited to see if they'd make any more noise, and after five minutes of silence, I was satisfied, and lowered my lids. But then, you see, I hear incredibly loud laughter coming from the same apartment next door. I groaned, jumping up angrily from my mattress and storming out into the hallway of the building, and knocking loudly on the door of my obnoxious neighbors.

"Oh shit," I heard someone whisper.

"Dude, go, answer it!" said another voice. Quiet footsteps. Unlocking. Door opens slightly.

"Uh, hi," said a nervous Asian boy. Well, he wasn't a boy. But he was short.

"Can you please shut the fuck up? It's four in the morning. Some of us have to go to work in the morning," I said bluntly, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Uh, yeah, I'm sorry, we were just filming this video fo—"

"—Yeah whatever, just be quiet okay?" I interjected.

"Dude, look, I'm sorry. You don't have to be a dick about it," he whispered defensively. My facial expression softened. He's right.

"I'm sorry," I said, downtrodden. "I'm just stressed out, I can't be taking it out on strangers. Have a good night." I felt the frown growing deeper on my face and my eyes beginning to burn.

"Uh... are you okay?"

"Mm, uh, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry," I whispered, wiping away the tear that I hadn't even realized was streaming down my face.

"You sure?" His brow was furrowed and he looked concerned.

I shook my head apologetically. I hate to put people in such awkward positions.

"It's not really your problem."

"So?" He said, stepping out of the apartment and into the hallway. "Talk to me." He put his back against the wall and slid down to the floor. He flashed a small smile and patted the carpet beside him. I hesitated before lowering myself to the floor next to him.

"I don't really know what to say," I began, smiling awkwardly.

"Why were you crying?" I could feel his eyes burning holes into my face, while I kept my gaze focused on the carpet, picking at it nervously.

"Ah, I don't really know. I'm just... in between a rock and hard place right now. I'll be okay," I began to stand up but he gently gripped my wrist.

"Wait," he said softly. "Everyone says that but they never do get to that place where they're okay by brushing it off. Sooner or later you'll have to address that, you know."

I rolled my eyes.

"Uh, thanks for the lecture Dad, but I have to get up for work in two hours, so I better get back to sleep. Thanks for interrupting my slumber. Hope we don't meet again."

I didn't even hesitate to spew the malice that slipped out of my mouth. This poor kid was just trying to help me, and of course, my fear of intimacy won't let him. Predictable.

I stood up quickly and headed back to my apartment without looking back. I closed my door gently, locking it with a click. Why am I always like this?

So young, so jaded.

Rubbed my temples for a few seconds before finally going back to my room and falling into my bed. God, what a shit show.

—

So ummm I hate that I'm writing Filthy Frank fan fiction now. I've reached my peak.

Let me know if this is any good. Here's the Daily Cancer©️: