Feverish Sparks

by featherliterature

Arthur Kirkland is a 16-year-old aspiring writer; he's never published any novels though he probably owns the Guinness World Record for having written the most fanfiction. Okay, that might be a bit of a stretch. One day his life takes a turn when he meets a seemingly obnoxious fellow fanfiction writer... Things aren't THAT simple.

6. My Life Isn't a Bed of Roses

Inbox (1)

Well, seeing how he took a whole day to reply, I guess he's busy with his life. Or maybe timezones. Actually, I don't even know where he lives.

asterisk: Oh hey, you're as good as your works. I can't stop checking you out. You had me at preface.

What the fuck? Is that meant to be a compliment? This guy is more creepy that I thought.

feverishsparks: None of my works includes a preface. You would know that if you were a real fan of my work.

Just then, Arthur's phone sounded with a beep. He looked away from the screen and picked up the phone to view the notification.

Message

Francis [17:20]
Hello Arthur just wanted to tell you that me and the bros made an account for you

You [17:20]
An account for...?

Francis [17:22]
LoveLife.

You [17:22]
Isn't that a dating site?

Francis [17:22]
Yes and a date is exactly what you need to lighten up you grumpy old man

You [17:23]
No thank you very much, you can use it for your one-night-stands and god-knows-what-else.

Francis [17:24]
You're making me sound like a womanizer.

You [17:24]
Which you are.

Francis [17:25]
I'm just trying to help you with your social anxiety. You need to get out more. When was the last time you came out?

[17:30]
Arthur?

[17:35]
I'm sorry I didn't mean it that way.

You [17:32]
It's fine.

Francis [17:32]
So... are you still living alone?

You [17:33]
Yes.

Francis [17:34]
Ah... I'll talk to you later, lunch break is about to be over. Take care, okay?

You [17:35]
Sure, bye.

Setting his phone aside, Arthur felt his breath getting caught in his throat. His eyes widened as he recalled the intensity of his father's eyes when his hand went across Arthur's face.

"You're a disgrace to the Kirkland household. You possess no soul, you demonic being. Homosexuals like you will rot in hell and burn for eternity. If that's what you want, fine. Go ahead. I'll let you do whatever you want. Get out of my house and I never want to see you again."

His father had practically spat in his face, venomous words had coiled around him as he choked down tears and left the estate. Arthur was rich; if he had pretended to be heterosexual, married a nice girl, he would have gained millions of dollars as inheritance. But then he wouldn't have been Arthur. Arthur wanted to be Arthur; he didn't care about being rich. He just wanted to stay true to himself and live as he wished. He was only twelve then. He regretted nothing. He's just glad to be himself. And he will never regret that decision.