shit show ⋆ bo burnham

05.

there was no proper way to explain the absolute dumpster fire of a situation that was quickly unfolding before bo. it was so horrid, in fact, that he nearly persuaded himself that he had fallen victim in a sudden remaster of punk'd. bo sat on the edge of the sofa cushion, his body language visibly portraying his discomfort.

"it's— this is bo, we were just watching a movie—" y / n stammered, her tone not easing bo in the slightest. it didn't put the other guy at ease, either.

"oh, really? yeah, i love this fucking movie, y / n. " he stated, sarcasm dripping noxiously from each word while he pointed at her blank television. it had turned itself off from being inactive for too long. "and bo? as in your piece of shit ex? what's really going on here?"

okay, so she did tell her boyfriend about him.

but bo almost preferred his previous assumption after hearing the new title he had been given. he swallowed back harshly, his knee beginning to bounce under his hand that smoothed slowly over his thigh.

"i'm not lying, dustin. the movie just finished. and what, i can't have friends over at my own apartment now? what's your problem?" she asked, visibly distraught.

"my problem is him," dustin stated flatly, gesturing towards bo, whose knee was now uncontrollable with the nerves he was developing. "this asshole is not your fucking friend, he's a sellout that doesn't give two shits about you. what do you expect me to think right now, seeing this?"

each insult hit bo directly through the chest like a poison-coated dagger, and not because some jerk-off was roasting him. no, it hurt beyond words because bo knew that all he was doing was relaying the exact words y / n must had told him. this was the impression of bo that she gave to others.

and bo deserved it.

"dustin, that's enough. there's no reason for you—"

"and he's sure as hell not clearing the air any! look at the fucking bitch boy you're entertaining, y / n. " dustin rebutted, nearly fuming. "how about it? got any jokes, bo? wanna enlighten this situation?"

bo did, in fact, have several jokes lined up; all of them demeaning to the asshole of an elephant in the room. but he couldn't bring himself to perform for free, and would rather be tending to the increasingly painful tightness in his chest that was suddenly propagating.

bo stood then, his height reigning over dustin's by nearly a foot. it didn't seem to change the anger dustin was seething with, however. "no, i— i'll just go."

before bo could turn to leave, dustin was already shoving him back roughly, the force being driven directly in his chest. despite stumbling a bit, bo's greatest concern was the wind being knocked out of him from that simple shove alone. he could hear y / n yelling at her boyfriend to stop, but he was obviously inconsolable. "what's your fucking deal, bo? you just wanted to come in here and fuck shit up? you're just gonna leave without saying anything, just like you did to her years ago? is that all you know how to fucking do?"

"all we were doing was watching a film; a quiet place, it had . . . k—krasinski." bo attempted to explain, despite knowing it probably wouldn't have an impact. he just really did not want to get shoved again. "her friend bailed, she asked me to watch a movie with her, it was literally nothing."

"you expect me to believe that, dude? what are you really trying to do? have another notch in your bedpost? is that it?"

"what? no! no—" bo nearly heaved, finding that assumption the most insulting thus far — which was saying something, because this was the lowest he'd been dragged in a while.