Author's Note: Got bored one night, so I decided to rewrite all this shit… Yep, more fun for those who have yet to read TeXt Me. I'm thinking that once people view the first chapter and see how terrible it is, they'd rather go read something worth to read with excitement and not many grammatical errors. Yeah… Have people noticed that this title no longer relates to the chapters?
Cheekon's Note: Er… so, yeah… WHAT IS MY LINE?-!
Alter Ego's Note: It's nothing really important, because, apparently, I was never really created until, like, a little before the fifth chapter.
Title: TeXt Me
Creator: Somebody with no life… never mind. Scratch that.
Genre: Romance, Humor, Mystery (kind of, not really), Yaoi (that's a genre?)
Rating: M for mature… who cares!
Summary: Riku is the only goth at school who is hated by football star, Sora Harada. So with a screwed up life, Riku gets an Internet secret admirer. Wait until he finds out who it really is!
Disclaimer: Riku is not owned by Square Enix, he is owned by Sora. It's the same with Sora being owned by Riku. Yeah… WHERE IS MY LINE?-!
Warnings: Boy/Boy romance so, there is molesting –cough- kissing, touching, lovey-dovey words (if that is possible by me), and uh… maybe a lemon… Not sure. And racial and sexual slurs, and degrading of the American government appears; do not be offended. This is only for my entertainment.
TeXt Me…
Prologue
- -
If I were to tell you how this story started, you'd probably be offended, because, you know, this world has just begun to be more open-minded. So, to start everything off, I'm gay. Whoop-dee-do to you stupid people who all gasped at this conception. Nothing personal, but I have no tolerance for those who cannot handle with something like this.
Well… that's a lie. The tolerance thing, I mean. If people really knew me, of course they would know this is a lie, for I fell for some ignorant bastard, er—kid. Man, I can't really talk about it unless I have the penchant to spoil my tale.
Ha, that sounds awkward.
Yeah… anyways, maybe I can start this story off to the summer before my junior year.
- -
I'm idly sitting in front of my computer, earphones blasting with some rock band I've stopped listening to since last year because everyone listened to them. Nope, I can't be much of a conformist in music, but yeah, whatever. That's not the important factor; what is, is the fact that my ass is vibrating.
Not the best picture, sorry, kids; it was the only coherent thought that first popped in my not-so working brain.
Fishing my cell out of the back pocket of my gun patterned PJ pants, I flip the device open. New text message inscribed in bold letters is the first thing I notice on the screen.
Hey
Who the fuck is this? I asked myself as I typed a reply, freaking out a little. Who knew the person who sent this message? A serial killer, or worse, an emo kid?-! Wait, scratch that. A monkey with toast was the person, right? Nah, because the only person who could fit the serial killer description is, um, I'm not going to point elbows.
Hi, u got the wrong number.
I closed my cell phone, ready to be occupied again by Myspace or some other activity such as messaging random people on my buddy list, only to get my hand vibrated.
If this is MexicanGoth on AOL, then no…
Holy shit! They knew my screen name! Only four people know it…well now five. Um, can we say "creepy"? My leg is shaking from anxiety. I'm flippin' sweating my forehead off.
Yeah, this is MexicanGoth… do I know you?
I waited for a replay. It came quickly enough that I jumped an inch out of my computer chair.
Yes and no
"Screw you!" I mentally scream to myself. Paranoia does some crazy shit to someone; let me tell you, especially if you just had a carton of Chinese food that made you vomit. Three times.
Okaaay… how did u get my screen name?
I'm Monkey Dancer, AOL buddy no. 1!
Oh yeah! That dude I gave my number to. I think it's a dude…
Don't judge me if I had randomly given some dude my number. Multiple situations come to desperate measures… That's not the saying, is it? Anyways, let's just say I'm having sexual needs that need to be satisfied with either pussy or dick. Either one was fine, though the latter is more preferable. Remember, don't judge me.
Are you a guy?
Maybe…
Okay, no girl would say that, so it is a guy. Unless, you know, it was a butch-y girl who thought this was another of her kind. Or is it his kind—don't they consider themselves the opposite sex? I wouldn't know, for I'm not a lesbian. Having balls and a dick is… what the hell am I saying? Refer back to the text message, please, Riku.
Okay, dude, what do you want?
You…
Whoa, a gay dude, or a girl who doesn't want to reveal her sex. Are these lesbians confused with gender?
Um… tell me more about you… MonkeyDancer
I know, lame comment, but I couldn't think of anything else. Yeah, me, Riku Itsuki unable to come up with a cunning or seductive pick-up line.
Hmmmm… I'm 15, I play a lot of sports, I like ice cream, and I'm gay… anything else?
Okay… it was a guy, a really sporty, gay guy. Great… Another one of those… I'm kidding. I have yet to go out with a guy, yet. Keyword here: "yet."
I want to know some things about you, MG
Uh… what should I say…? Do people know how awkward this is—to meet new people who could be qualified as future girl–or boyfriend material? Do people understand how awkward this would be if I was actually talking to this guy in person? Holy shit, if he were hot, I'd hit that in a heartbeat.
No lie.
I'm 16, I only like volleyball, basketball, and tennis, I hate any ice cream except if its chocolate chip, and I guess I'm bi
Single? Virgin?
This was getting personal but somehow, I kind of trusted this… Monkey Dancer. Plus, if I just basically came-out in a text conversation, that I must have the balls to tell him if I'm still available and if I had lost my V-license.
Yes and no
Hmm… never met a 16 year old who wasn't a virgin…
'That's funny,' is what I really want to put as a reply. To be honest, about everyone in high school has either lost his or her virginity or planning to with his or her current boyfriend. Or a friend they have benefits with. Whatever floats their boat.
Ha! How 'bout you?
I'm both
So you're single and a virgin, momma's boy!
LOL!
I wanted to hear his laugh… How lame and corny can I be in one night? It's 7 g2g
y?
I have asshole parents
People need to know that this is so very, very, VERY true. Parents are not supposed to be assholes, and if they were, a child is not expected to think such things, but I'm a fucking teenager who has parents with no souls.
O… talk to you tomorrow, same time?
Yeah, MD
'Night, MG
Bye
Somehow, I felt rather complete after that conversation, though for a short period of time. The computer died on me a minute later, leaving me to stare at a black screen and miss music that had once been the trend so last year.
- -
Monkey Dancer
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I slammed the damn button of the alarm. That'll shut the little fucker up! I groaned, tossing over to the opposite side to avoid the shining red numbers of the alarm clock. I slammed my forearm against my forehead.
Shit!
Today was the first day of school! It's not that I hate school… I abhorred it—oh, shit, big word! Especially Tuesdays, which every first day of school has been on a Tuesday. Ew, Tuesdays can suck my balls for all I care. Scratch that, please. Life can suck my balls. Yeah, so much better, you know?
Anyways, I got my ass out of bed and hopped in the shower. I loved doing my morning rituals: take a shower, put make up on (which consist of black eyeliner, nothing more), fixing my hair (basically putting washable black hair dye in it), covering my nudity (with some somewhat-loose jeans and a large black shirt).
I know, why put washable hair dye on my gorgeous hair? Because, I have fucking silver hair. It isn't normal to see a sixteen year old with silver hair walking around town, especially if he's a goth, basically a freak of America.
Yeah, I'm a fucking goth… Jeez, people make such a big deal out of it. I can't stand ignorant people who discriminate against stereotypes. Except, you know, if you're a prep then of course I'm going to ignore you with your pop, fake rock music and preppy stores like Aeropostle.
I was already ready, maybe just applying some finishing touches on my eyes, when I heard Satan at my door.
"Get your scrawny ass out of bed!" My 'Satan' slammed his fist on my door.
"Alright, dammit!" I screamed back.
Don't you feel the love?
Anyhow, I did get my scrawny ass out of the room and slid down the stair rail. Satan glared at me with morning moosh oozing from the corner of his eyes. His face really needed a shave, and fast.
Guess who Satan is?
"Don't you fucking slide down the stair rail!" He had yet to brush his teeth, too, let me add.
I rolled my eyes. "I didn't 'slide,' I slid. There's a difference." I jumped to the ground, making my way to my book bag, glancing over my shoulder. "And get a life please."
Satan was now all pissed off. I mentally laughed as I grabbed my book bag and walked out of the door.
Well, tried to; someone was in my way.
"Hey, Riku…" Satan's wife said, smiling a vindictive smile behind the red lips. She looked vampire-ish—something, uh, ugly is the best word.
I ignored the kindness. Yep, Satan and Satan's wife were my parents. Damn, I hated them. You can understand why I hated my dad, but why Satan's wife? Because she was and always will be a fake motherly figure; think back to the smile. I'm going to stop talking about my parents now.
I got out the door and began walking to Hell. The sun was making its entrance to this part of the globe, right smack in the country of America. American can also suck my balls, especially the politics.
George Bush, kiss my ass.
"RIKUU!" I turned my head to only be tackled by my twin, Naminé. We tumbled to the concrete ground.
She gave me her outmost prettiest, apologetic smile. She was too pretty for her own good, with blond hair reaching to her shoulders and her petite body just kept the boys coming. Last year I had to beat at least two guys from harassing her with whooping and other shit that's supposed to get the girl's attention.
I twisted my lips to try to smile. I hated smiling.
"Riku, you left before I could give you your 'good morning kiss'." She pouted, her features appearing even cuter. Hell no, I didn't have an incest relationship with my sister or feelings like that to her; we get along so well, we don't fight like normal siblings. Odd, yeah, plus, it's normal if twins quarreled, you just didn't see Naminé and I do it often.
I shrugged. "I was PMSing, Naminé," I joked. She got off me as soon as Satan's other child walked up to us.
"Yo, lovebirds! It's illegal to do stuff like that," Zexion joked, flipping the band that covered his eye in a feminine manner. He held out a hand, which I took to help me get up. Yeah, Z's my brother. Such an asshole, in a good way, I mean. These two were the only ones in my family who weren't afraid of how I dressed and acted.
Naminé wrapped her arm around my own. "Ready for the first day back?"
"I told you already Naminé, last night,"
"Oh, yeah," she cleared her throat. "'I have so many enemies at 'hell'; I don't know how you guys are so popular.'" She was trying to act out my voice, which she wasn't good at.
I laughed. Shoulder to shoulder and arms around my arm (Naminé's case only), we walked into Hell.
Damn! First day of school was always the worst. Not only was I the only goth at school, but I was one of the smartest people at school. That meant all the teachers would flourish me with tons of extra stuff or interesting projects. Hey, at least I didn't have to pay attention in class.
I distinguished myself from my siblings to socialize with people of my status; unlike Z and Naminé, I'm not as popular with the student body.
I plopped a place on the bench perched before the large fountain smacked right in the middle of the school building. The water sparkled under the sun, and it had somewhat raised my spirits about being in school.
My friend, a girl named Chris—short for Christina—with a bronze skin tone and long hair tied in a ponytail, made her way through the crowd of chattering teens to slide a spot next to me. "Hey," she said breathlessly. A small tired smile manifested her lips. "How was your summer? I missed, like, everyone while I was at that dumbass of a camp."
"Nothing much. Hating the first day, though." I replied, stretching back.
I was indulged in a conversation with Chris about how our former Algebra II teacher had been hospitalized during the summer, when my phone went off. A new text message again.
Hey, it's MD
"Who's that?" Chris asked, peering over my shoulders. I told her about 'MD' and our conversations—not adding some of the, um, inappropriate ones.
She beamed and clapped her hands, eyes gleaming and dreamy. "You have a secret admirer!"
I rolled my eyes. "MD is not a secret admirer, Chris."
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Oh! Do you know his real name?"
"… No…"
"Okay, then! He's a secret admirer." The tomboy dressed in a Panic! At the Disco hoodie and jean shorts grabbed the cell phone out of my hands. "Hmmm… hey, MD, did you dream about me?" My eyes went wide. Chris actually typed that in my cell and sent it. I was surprised I received a reply.
Yeah…
"Heh, heh!" My hands tried to pry the device from her hands, but Chris was quick to jump to the side. She ran to the other side of the fountain, still typing away. "What of me?" She smiled wickedly as she read aloud the reply she typed back frivolously. Through the rising and falling water, I saw the tongue peeking out of her mouth; she was flicking me off with a freaking tongue!
I knew she was planning against me; I tried to take the cell phone back, leaping into the actual fountain to reach the opposite side. Chris is paying for new shoes, and they had better be DCs, too. With rainbow shoelaces. She handed my cell back, laughing hysterically as she held on to her ribs.
Yeah… you were naked… it was nice yet naughty…
I gaped. Damn, was this guy horny. I ran my fingers through my black dyed hair, frowning uncontrollably. "Chris, are you, like, some obsessed yaoi fan?"
"She is." We turned to see Cheekon (his parents were on something when they named him), smirking and cradling his knapsack on one shoulder. The boy was rather scrawny for his age—the hoodie he adorned accented this feature. A messy mop of dark brown hair covered the top of his eyes. "Hey, what up, my fellow Mexican friend?"
I rolled my jade green eyes at my beaner. No offense to those of Hispanic descent. Racial slurs are too old school; I can't help it if they just slip out of my mouth. Smack me, if you want.
"Please do NOT acknowledge my ethnicity in this," I said.
Chris rolled her eyes towards me, and smirked like a maniac. "Cheekon, Riku here has an admirer."
"WHAT!" Cheekon's knapsack found itself neglected on the ground, while Cheekon came closer between Chris and I.
"A gay one." Chris affirmed slyly, batting her eyelashes at me. I hoped my staring dagger technique pierced through that coy façade.
"RIKU! What the fuck, man! Your hip's vibrating…" Cheekon pointed at my pocket.
I took out my cell phone. It was MD. Chris eyed me suspiciously, the look "I told you so" marking her features.
Um… did that reply scare you?
"Hell yeah!" I didn't type that. I should have though, huh? But I was too distracted with the looks Cheekon and Chris offered after my outburst. "What?" I inquired, blinking. "I'm having way too much fun for this."
Cheekon raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Yeah, you right."
"Fuck you." Um… kinda… I mean, I've never had an admirer…
Who said I was an admirer?
I did
And so did my friends, but I didn't want him to know that. Just like I didn't want them staring at me as my fingers danced along the keypad of my cell. I smiled as I continued the text-ing, ignoring my friends' existence at the moment.
lmao I guess I am if you say so…
That's right, bitch, better know who's boss here. I'm such a dominatrix, no? Minus the whip and complex outfit.
"Are you going to catch that?" Cheekon asked.
One of my eyebrows went up. "What?"
"Are you going to catch that?" Chris pointed at the sky. Sure enough, an unidentified football object was heading towards us.
Well… rather only me.
And do you know how much of an impact a speeding football has?
SPLASH! I was drenched. My eyeliner was running down my eyes; I looked like one of those girls in those soap operas who just cried her eyes out! And my hair dye washed away, leaving a black substance worming in the water. I shivered with the sudden wind that blew at the right time, the moment after I get soaked. I heard laughter; here came the number one person I hated the most: Sora Harada. Wait, scratch that. Number one person on my shit list now, is the perfect description.
He came running to me in the football jacket—school colors: red and white—jeans, and yellow tee, with his jocks (football assholes), smirking. "Fag got a bath late this morning?" His group laughed, asking for high fives for his stupid joke.
"Ha, ha, Harada," I said sarcastically, shaking my head to dry most of the strands. Fuck, I can't stand clothes sticking to my skin uncomfortably.
He gave me a quizzical look. "Didn't know you had silver hair, dumbass…"
Shit! Ugh…now people know, and they were going to make fun of me; something I still haven't accustomed to ever since junior high. Before anyone said more, I dashed out there, leaving a trail of puddles.
"RIKU!" Chris and Cheekon called, but I didn't look back. Invisible tears were swelling up. I swiped a sleeve over my face, hoping not to crash into any students who would acknowledge the change of my hair.
DAMN YOU, HARADA!
—
Sora blinked. Chris turned and gave him her infamous evil eye. Cheekon's eyes went wide. He knew what was about to take place.
"Come, Chris!" He dragged her by the collar of her shirt. She began flying cuss words nonstop.
"BITCH! YOU ASSWIPE! WHAT THE FUCK DID RIKU EVER DO TO YOU, FUCKER?-! HARADA, YOU DAMN RIGHT GIVE ME A FUCKING ANSWER!"
Sora rolled his eyes, retrieving the fallen football from the fountain. "C'mon. Let's leave the bitch and her master alone…"
Cheekon too was fuming up. Sora left, along with the jocks. Chris calmed down, exhausted; her shoulders slumped forward, head bent downwards.
"Better?" Cheekon patted her back.
She sighed, closing her eyes slowly. "Why does he have to be a fucking jerk to Riku…?"
- -
Fuck it! I was skipping school in the bathroom. I was in the last stall, which was the cleanest. Though, overall, the bathroom still held that musty aroma of piss and other stuff that had somewhat manifested on the ceilings. Don't ask me what it is; all I'm telling you is it's white.
I was still drenched and felt miserable. I guess I should talk to MD, somebody that I could cope for five minutes, unlike a certain somebody. Not pointing any elbows. I flipped opened my phone.
MD, you there?
I waited for a reply. Thirty seconds later:
Yo!
Now what to actually talk about… I don't know?
Um… I need someone to talk to…
Really, having a bad day?
Uh… damn straight! I'm depressed, but who said it had to bring my spunk down? Wait, lack of thereof.
Oh… I saw something really ethereal today
Good 4 u
"Riku… you in here?"
My attention perked at the sound of my name and whose voice said it. The door to the bathroom creaked open, I supposed.
"You're not supposed to be in here, Chris!" Was that Cheekon? I heard scuttling coming from outside my stall.
"You're not the only friend Riku's got!"
"But this is the boys' bathroom!"
I opened the door to see Cheekon pounced by Chris. I smirked. "Geez, you guys can't be my friends…" And how could we be actually having such a conversation in a faculty with cracks on the tiles and dirty water leaking from the faucets? This world was one strange place.
Chris smiled, standing up. "We wanted to check up on you… Sora is such a bitch…!" She stuck out her tongue to prove her point.
I closed my cell phone and securely put it in my pocket. Thank god it was waterproof. "Oh, well… he loves me…" I said sarcastically, shrugging. I was disappointed that my friends came on me while I was talking with MD.
Cheekon shook his head. "We should kill him…" He gave me an evil grin, rubbing his hands together. I let out a weary laugh, swinging an arm around Cheekon's shoulder. "Purple nurples will do the trick, no?"
"With metal tongs, yes." I interjected, both of us guys laughing.
Chris rolled her brown eyes as she stood apart from the males in the boys' bathroom. "Boys will be boys…"
- -
Sora closed his cell phone. He sighed, resting his head against his desk.
It sucked to be the most popular kid. Why? Because everyone expected him to be the best in everything, like how he should be a prime example of paying attention to the lecture, though he was on the brink of sleeping. But… he was single, which was out of the question for most of the people at the school, especially in his clique.
Sora just shook his head. He had better things to do; things that concerned of making Riku's life a living hell.
If Sora only knew that Riku's life was a living hell already…
- -
Author's Note II: Yeah, many major and slight changes, but I hope this is a better… thing of a chapter.
Cheekon's Note II: It's not, that's all I've got to say.
Alter Ego's Note II: Well, I'd like to shrink Cheekon's negativity and throw cookies at people who read and review now! REVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEW! REE-VUUU-U!
Next in TeXt Me:
—Sora was too close… damn libido! He smirked.
"You know, Riku, you're really attractive…" his head began coming closer…then closer…then…
—Sora gave Naminé a kiss. My eyes went wide.
"Naminé, do you want to be my girlfriend?" Sora asked.
— "Hello? Oh, hey Axel…" Zexion looked at us.
Naminé's eyes went huge. "You like Axel?"
I smirked. "Wow, Zexion… And I thought I was the only one with hormonal problems…"
"Shut up…"