All of my stories that I'm going to post are all within the same timeline unless noted otherwise with ((independent)).
This is story number four.
Tweek awoke that day, that dreaded day he had feared for a weak, craving a heavy dose of caffeine. He needed coffee. Sliding out of bed and into his embarrassingly pink fuzzy slippers, Tweek twitched his way across the hardwood floor of his tidy room and out the door.
He reached the kitchen and started making his coffee. After the coffee maker sputtered to a stop, he took the cup in his hands and sipped on the black goldmine. A shaky hand ran through his messy yellow hair. The hot drink scorched his insides as it made its way down, but somehow, and as always, Tweek's twitching ceased.
Carrying his cup of coffee, and without spilling a drop, he sauntered back to his tidied room and perched himself on the edge of his bed. It was a bright day; sun shone through the single-paned window and illuminated itself on the green walls of Tweek's abode. Another sip of the steamy drink and the tired boy let out a shaky sigh, which came out more as a "gah!" in its place.
Please god no, he thought to himself, I shouldn't have agreed to this.
He sat his coffee cup down on the table and hoisted himself up and onto his feet.
I don't want to do this, he walked over and picked up a neatly-folded shirt that was laying on his desk and quickly slipped it on. His fingers twitched as he buttoned up the plaid shirt. He tripped trying to get out of his pajama bottoms and did so once again when the khakis came out.
Why did I say I would go?!
Tweek was in a silent argument with himself.
Its true, Tweek shouldn't have agreed to go to the party, but the offer came so quickly that he didn't even have time to think about what he was getting himself into.
"Oh Jesus!" he screamed through clenched teeth; everything about this day was just too much.
At least he was dressed. Looking at the time, Tweek figured "7 hours before I'm getting picked up," and he ran to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.
Taking a series of sips of the dark drink, he once again sat on the edge of his not-yet-made bed. He let out another, yet quieter, "oh Jesus" before remembering a vital element to today's events.
He put his coffee down and got down to open the drawer of his nightstand. He rummaged through the drawer until he came up with what he needed- "ahah!"
Tweek pushed down on the white cap and dumped two orange pills into his hand, and down they go with another swig of coffee. He let out a "bleh" at the sour taste, but Tweek's jitters already seemed to have lessened. He shoved the orange bottle back into the drawer and through the rest of the clutter you could barely read the label "adderall" printed on its side.
I don't want to do this, he thought once more before laying back down on his messy sheets, already too tired of the day to make the bed.
But I will do this, because if he does, it'll prove to himself and his parents how much better he has gotten. Tweek breathed in and out as he laid still, he can do this. And on the plus side, Tweek let out another "gah" at the thought, he'll get to see Craig.
I can do this, he prompted himself silently over and over, letting his long golden eyelashes rest on his cheeks.