Writing oneshots #2 and some art

Blissful agony (Implied Holden x Stradlater)

I was in my dorm one peaceful afternoon, trying to tolerate one of the few interesting historically accurate books when Stradlater decided to break that by waltzing in unannounced. Of course, that was him alright, thinking he was so much better than everybody else that he didn't even have to knock on the door or anything. What if I was doin' something real bad? He'd probably report me, like the phony "friend" he is.

After he marked his territory, he turned to me. "Hey! What's up?" He barked like he just memorized a line from a how to make friends book. That's the type of person he was, never thinking for himself, only saying what he's "supposed" to say. What a phony.

"The ceiling."

He grunted like I was somehow in the wrong for simply responding to a question he asked. "Anyways, I got 2 free movie tickets for winning the tennis match.

This was the usual Stradlater, always spewing out goddam useless information. He would say it over a million times over until he would shut up about it. Then, he would find some other thing to use as a pitiful excuse for a conversation. I never even got the reason why he would bother yap his life story to me when he has all those other friends, they're probably all phonies too.

I didn't even look up from my book, just rolling my eyes. "Why are you telling me this? Gonna ask me out on a date?"

He must have been so shocked by the mere statement of that, that he bumbled and fell on his ass over his dog pile of phony supplies. That just about killed me.

He stood up and dusted himself off. Boy, he looked goddam near a tomato. "Stop laughin' at me."

"Oh you think I'm laughin' at you? No, I'm laughing at this super funny book." I said, whilst holding a book that detailed the mechanisms of the human soul and depravity, just like all the phonies.

Not that Stradlater would know that of course, his only talent was whacking a tennis ball back in forth for 45 minutes. Unfortunately, that's all it takes to get noticed by girls in society. That's why I've never had myself a girl, they only get with guys who handles balls all day. A mere sight of a foil is enough to make me girl-repellent. Not that I cared much about that kind of stuff, that's the kind of stuff old Thurmer would tell you is important, other than academics.

He looked at me funny like I knew he would. He damn near thought I looked like a alien compared to a guy like him. He showed disinterest in anything actually worth listening to.

Luckily, I had something to actually listen to. I put in my earbuds and scrolled through the various song titles on my mp3 player. There was no use in reading a book around a lesser intelligent being, he was already at it, whacking a ball against the wall to practice basic motor skills.

As he made his ever maddening abuse at the wall, I went through the options until I landed upon "Welcome to the Black Parade". Finally racket I could tolerate. I laid there in my bed, just trying to drown out the ever repeating noise of his antics.

Despite this, his reign of terror wasn't over. Whilst I was just laying there in bed, he invaded my space by placing himself onto the end of my bed. "Whatcha listening to?" He barked.

"Oh, you know, Nickelback."

"Here lemme..." He yanked one of the earbuds out of my ears and shoved it deep into his ears, despite the fact I never seen him wash his ears. Now, he was really yanking chain. I tried to rip it back what was rightfully mine, but he shoved it deeper into his ear to listen to the music he probably wouldn't even understand. Now I was as straight up as an arrow.

"Oh, hey! I know this song. 'My father took me into the city to see a marching band.'" He started shrilling out the lyrics. He clearly just mesmerized all the lyrics so he could prey on people who were brainwashed enough to accept his help. He probably didn't even know the artist.

"Where did somebody like you hear it?"

"They played it at the tennis match."

I yawned. God he was boring. Always yap yap yap about tennis. He was so boring in fact, that I started malfunctioning and shutting down. When I did shut down, I leaned the direction of my pillows. Unfortunately there was an obstacle named Stradlater in my way. For whatever reason, he seemed content in his confinement. He was nice for a phony, I have to admit.