This ficlet is based on some hilarious discussions regarding Kevin I had with two of my friends, Sal and Lauren on skype.
'Hey, Silent K! SC is throwing a huge rave at this old warehouse in Beach City on Friday night. You live there right?'
'Yes'
'Well he's inviting all of us to go if we're in the area. You should totally go!'
'Idk. I'm not much of a party person.'
'Bummer. That's too bad, I totally would have loved to see pictures of you."
"nnno"
Kevin immediately shut his laptop off, and got up, flopping onto his bed, burrowing into his comforter like it was the one thing protecting him from the outside world. He couldn't go out there, he couldn't, he couldn't. He grumbled and whined to himself about how stupid he was for bailing off the chat room like that, curling into himself until his glasses were getting smushed against his cheeks.
He then sat up, and looked in his mirror, staring into his own flushed reflection, fixing his glasses onto his face again, and wiped the drool from his mouth with his sleeve. It wasn't like he didn't want to go to the party, as a matter of fact, he'd have loved to go. But he could take one look in the mirror at himself and already get a feeling that he wouldn't last at that party, not with his demeanor, his looks, his...awkwardness.
S.C. was probably really nice anyway, after all, he DID comment and leave kudos on every piece of fanfiction he'd written in the Spirit Morph Saga tag, and he would reblog most of his posts...but maybe he was expecting someone who looked cool, and not someone who looked like...well...himself.
Kevin had never really clicked much with his peers in school growing up, it was just too frightening of an experience for him. His parents ended up homeschooling him, and in his free time, he wouldn't make the attempt to go outside and make friends with his neighbors. He found more comfort in his writing, and his studies, discussing very interesting conspiracy theories with a well nuanced anonymous individual's blog, and on occasion, pirated movies from virus infested sites on his computer.
And he just simply didn't have the time to find friends outside of the internet, with trips to and from the library, the store, his speech therapist (he was getting very good at getting over his stutter), and the occasional trip to the hobby shop to buy leftover computer parts, he didn't see any reason to cut in more time to look for friends. He had plenty to chat with online.
Taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes to avoid an oncoming migraine, Kevin told himself it was nothing to get worked up over, and that he had at least two days to decide. But what if those two days would be necessary for him to get ready for what could be his first party? This could be his one chance to change his life around, and he was sitting here, wasting precious time! He didn't want to be a shut in forever, even if the thought of talking to people terrified him.
Kevin had a feeling this would take some research. Raves weren't like any old party, they had a specific vibe, with specific people, and if you wanted to be noticed you had to carry the right attitude with you!
'Siri, w-what kind of attitude should I have at a rave party?' Kevin asked his phone, and watched the results pour in.
Confidence, independence, calmness, energetic, an extrovert.
Perfect! Everything that Kevin was terrible at!
Clearing his throat, he decided this needed to be simplified.
"...How do I be cool?"
Friday night approached faster than he could have expected, and after hours of research, and multiple pep talks in the mirror, he felt like he'd mentally prepared himself for this party.
Just stay cool against the wall until someone just as cool comes by, don't be a nerd, dance with cool people, get their numbers, get a hot girlfriend, and then get a car. Foolproof!
After looking at a large variety of rave outfits online, and rooting through his closet, even in his parents' closets for items, Kevin felt his outfit was complete, and it looked great. At least...he thought it looked great. He really couldn't see anything without his glasses.
After fixing his hair, and adjusting the infinity scarf, he decided he would do everything he could to push down everything in himself that made him such a nerdy little shut in, and he was vowing to emanate nothing but coolness itself.
Taking a deep breath, he grinned and whispered to himself in the mirror.
"It's Kevin Time."
This had been a horrible idea.
Kevin groaned as he curled in on himself as he lay on the bench several feet away from the club. He could feel his heart pounding in rhythm to the beats from inside, and he was ready to vomit.
He'd been sure this whole thing was going smoothly up until that really really hot babe stormed in and showed off their moves. And then Kevin was so sure he'd scored himself a dance when they started getting all weird, and then they were...two kids?
Couldn't he go to jail for something like that? Dancing with two kids? Kevin didn't know, and he didn't want to find out.
This is what he got for disregarding a 9:30 curfew, he supposed.
The thought of everyone staring at him and somehow knowing that he was a complete and utter fraud made him feel ill. When people talked about him online, the first thing to come to their mind would be how much of a loser he was. A loser who got his dance moves from a 1980s commercial for cereal. God, even his outfit was stupid, he should have known better than to wear that infinity scarf and that stupid orange top.
He didn't know how much time had passed when he finally stopped hyperventilating, and dry-heaving towards the grass, but he could hear voices, growing closer and more clear as they approached.
"That jerk's still here?"
"What's he doing?"
Kevin didn't know who it was, but he already knew they were addressing him in his sorry state, and groaned, curling up tighter into a ball, screwing his eyes shut.
"Hey...uh...are you okay?"
Glancing up for a second, Kevin immediately regretted it, seeing the two kids from earlier.
"Oh g-god," he wheezed, "P-please tell me you don't have parents here."
The boy glanced in confusion at his companion, who shook her head with an unimpressed look, "We don't, we just wanted to see if you were okay-"
"I'm- I'm just-", Kevin was already starting to trip over words, his facade coming undone as his eyes blurred from the lack of clear vision, and a strangely familiar wet sting, "I'm a fraud," he began to blubber, not caring he was becoming an emotional wreck in front of two kids who were probably younger than his kid brother.
The smaller kid stepped forward, and put an overly comforting hand on his knee, "There there, at least you're honest with yourself on that note."
"So why were you being such a sleazeball and trying to get me- I mean him- I mean, us to dance with you?", the girl asked.
"I d-didn't know you were two k-kids!", he blubbered, his stutter returning, "I just w-wanted to get people to l-like me. I don't have any f-friends outside of the internet, and I never go to p-parties!"
"Why not?"
"Because I'm...", Kevin swallowed his last remains of pride, and spit out the ugly truth, "I'm a l-loser."
"Aww, I'm sure that's not the case," the boy assured.
"B-But I am!", Kevin insisted, "I j-just-...I wanted to be c-cool around everyone. I've never gotten invited t-to anything like this...I d-didn't want to mess it up."
The girl sighed, "Look...uh...Kevin. Not everyone can be a party person...not everyone is a dancer either...and well...that's OK. Not everyone likes to dance unless they're with someone, because then it's a lot more fun..."
"And that's what everyone is here for!", the boy added in, "To have fun! Who cares about looking cool?"
"...t-teenagers?"
"You really have been on the internet too much," the girl muttered.
"W-wait, so were you two...r-really that person or-"
"Don't ask," she insisted.
After a bit of silence, most of which consisted of the two children staring at the humiliated lump that was Kevin on the bench, one of them piped up, "...So are you going to go back in there and dance?"
"No," Kevin mumbled, "I still feel like g-garbage."
"Really? Not an angel?" the girl teased.
Flushing brightly, Kevin muttered, "I-I uh...", he rubbed his face, "I think I'm j-just gonna go back home. I uh...was working on something."
"What was it?", the boy asked with curiosity.
"It's embarrassing," the teen muttered, shaking his head, wishing he could see better, "It's uh...f-fanfiction for a book series I like."
"...Is it the weekly Archimicarus Chronicle update?", the girl suddenly asked.
Kevin's ears grew red, wondering how she even could have guessed that so quickly, "...U-Uh...y-yeah-I k-kind of-"
The girl immediately gasped with delight, and leaped, shaking her companion's arm, "That is my absolute favorite fanfiction of the Spirit Morph Saga ever! Are you really the author?"
"U-Uh I-"
She shook her companion's arm again, "I can't believe you're the author! You're brilliant at your writing, it's almost like it could be canon! How do you do it? Can you tell me what's going to happen next? Please?"
Seeing and hearing the excitement in the girl's face and voice, Kevin gave a shaky attempt at a cool smile, "I'm n-not giving away my secrets-"
"Nooooot fair!", she yelped, shaking her friends' arm again.
"A-A-A-Aaaaaah, Connie, what is this about?", the boy asked as he got violently shaken by her excited movements.
She grinned again, "I have to show you these books later, and then the fanfictions, you'll absolutely love them!", then immediately pointed at Kevin, "You! Go home! Write the next chapter! Go Go Go!"
Kevin was almost spooked by the level of demand in her voice and was quick to rush down the hill and towards home, nearly hitting a streetlamp, a tree, and an irate donut shop employee on his way.
It was almost a comfort to rip off all his tacky dance clothes, and slip into pajamas, and have 20/20 vision again through his thick unfashionable frames, and sit at his computer with a hot cup of tea, a few leftover Chinese takeout fortune cookies that he'd hoarded from a few weeks ago, and his classical music radio station playing on his speakers, typing on his keys, finishing the first draft of his latest chapter in a few hours. He made a small post script note to himself to dedicate this chapter to Connie, his '#1 Fan', even if it sounded stupid, at least having a fan made him feel a little cooler.
While proofreading, he received an IM from SC.
'Hey I don't think I saw you at the party! Did you ever come?'
Kevin swallowed hard.
'No, I was sick with a stomachache, sorry. Maybe another time.'
There was still some lapses of confidence he wasn't sure he could get over soon enough, but he could take this in baby steps.
Maybe during the next rave, he'd wear his glasses.