Ch.1

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"God, someone make out with me before I fucking die,”

John had whispered to no one in particular (but definitely with someone in mind) as he lay alone in bed, having no one to talk to in the first place. His long, blonde hair was a tangled mess, and he didn’t have the need, or the want, to get up and make himself some breakfast of sorts. All he really wanted, or well, needed, was a hug and someone to talk to. Preferably one of his close friends that he definitely didn’t have a crush on. (And his name definitely wasn’t Smitty) He had kept himself inside for the last two weeks because of a nasty illness, but he had gotten much better over time, but along the way, starving himself of attention from his friends. He couldn’t record anything but had back up videos of him playing poly bridge or CAH with his friends that he could put out when needed, but this all still landed on the fact that he had deprived himself of all attention and affection from his friends and Smitty. Goddamn, why did everything come back to that dude?

He probably left them all worried or something, but he was still uploading content which hopefully put them at ease if there was even any need for that.

The male slowly sat up in bed and threw his legs off of the edge of the bed, onto the carpeted floor beneath him, and stood up. He yawned as be unplugged his phone from its charger and made his way towards the bathroom where he began brushing through his hair, making sure he looked a little presentable. He debated on whether he should take a shower or not, as he had taken one the night before, but caring for himself seemed like too much, and he didn’t really have the energy to do so anyway. He stared at his reflection a minute longer before leaving the room and making his way out of his bedroom, and into the hallway, which he followed down and stepped into the small kitchen. It wasn’t too decorated, but then again, rarely having guests over made no need to cover the room with pretty sights.

He set his phone down on the middle of the counter, leaning against the object before picking his phone back up and propping his elbows up on the countertop. He never shut his phone off when he was charging it, a habit he probably would never grow out of, but he’d live, surely. Yawing, he pressed down on the power button to see the screen flicker on to his lock screen. He swiped up, entered the passcode, and started to browse through Twitter, ignoring the notifications at the top of his screen. He then impulsively took a moment to read through some of them, seeing a lot of Instagram and Youtube notifications alike, before his eyes landed on a text message from his closest friend, Smitty. (He was totally NOT gay for him, by the way, if that’s what you were thinking. Which you shouldn’t be, so..)

‘hey man, we are pretty worried about you. im coming over in a bit to check on you’

Woah. His totally not crush was coming over to check on him.

Fuck.
He signed out in frustration. The message was only from about seven minutes ago, and at this point, there was no way he could convince Smitty not to visit, as he was probably halfway there. Sighing out loudly, he set his phone back down and debated on getting something to eat. He then came to the conclusion of not even having that many options as he searched through his cabinets and his fridge. All he had, that sounded sort of appetizing, was a packet of blueberry oatmeal, but at least it was something, right?

A/N: I feel like this is short

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