Faking Zero

Chapter One: Aaron: My Pace

A/N: This really is just us being salty at Aph because holy shit are there issues with her stories. So, instead we wrote some dumbass gay Aaron and some barely-functioning bisexual Garroth. Also, this is kinda a fun experiment for us because we get to see how much better we've gotten at writing and working together. I hope you enjoy this crack-y idea that got treated seriously.

E/N: We've written this to spite Aph in full. There are so many major flaws in her writing. Regardless, we used to be big fans. Faking Zero was originally for Aarmau and was written back in 2018 on Wattpad. It was really bad. Here's a better version with a healthier pairing bc what senior dates a freshman?

"You're up early." Melissa commented as I came down the short hallway to the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder and tossed me her once-over look, no doubt taking in my pajamas and bedhead. "Dude. No breakfast until you're dressed."

I sighed, "C'mon, Mel, please?" She turned back to whatever she was making (eggs?) and shook her head.

"Nuh-uh. Clothes before food." I sat down at the kitchen table anyways and leaned my head on my arms.

"You sound like mom." I muttered, and Melissa visibly tensed,

"Don't say that." She whispered, and the weight of my words hit me, I sat up,

"Shit wait, no, Mel I didn't mean, just that. . ." She shook her head, and I trailed off. "Fuck. I'll go get dressed." I stood back up.

"Don't forget your homework." Now you really sound like a mom. Not our mom, but a mom. I thought as I turned back down the hallway.

Back in my room, I picked up one of my discarded school uniform blazers, shaking it out and tossing it onto my bed. Picking a white button up from my closet, it joined the blazer on my bed, same with a tie and pair of pants (that didn't even crease properly, christ). I changed out of my pajamas, managing to button my shirt wrong before I collected myself.

I looped my tie around my neck and pulled on my fingerless gloves, they weren't uniform standard, but served a different purpose. I was a Ten, whoopie-goddamn-doo for me, right? No. The gloves had cutout palms, but the left glove was cut just so, and as such made my Ten look like a Zero, lowest in the hierarchy. Sure, people treated me like shit because of it, but at least I didn't need to deal with the connection to my father.

I'd stab someone if it meant I got to be unconnected from that asshole.

When I went back to the kitchen, Melissa was sitting at the table already. I sat down at the plate she had set out for me wondering, not for the first time, if this was what family was supposed to be. Melissa was really the only person I would call family, at least the kind of family that was always preached– mutual love and respect and all that shit.

I took a bite of the eggs, not minding that Melissa didn't speak. I wasn't a loud person by nature, any promise of that had been screamed out of me by age four. Melissa had gotten a similar treatment.

She finished eating quickly and stood up, putting her plate in the sink before checking her phone. She cursed.

"Crap, I gotta run, don't be late!" She said, pressing a quick kiss to my temple before

dashing out of the room. I exhaled, glancing at my watch. I wasn't on as strict a schedule as my sister and got to leave later because of it. I heard the shuffle of Melissa grabbing all her things and the front door slamming shut behind her. My sister wasn't unlike a hurricane at times.

Once I was done eating I put my plate with hers in the sink (one of us would deal later) and grabbed my bag, making sure to double check for all my homework and such. It wasn't a problem I often ran into, but I wanted it to stay that way. I pulled on my sneakers, fuck dress shoes, and was out the door just as fast as Melissa.