🖤Dear Boatboy💜

The American Neko

a/n: this is my first time writing a fanfic !! ٩(＾◡＾)۶ pls dont make fun of me ╥﹏╥

"Hey, redhead! The people in the dorm next to us are moving in today, so don't go jerking off while we're out meeting them."

Jax said before the door slammed shut.

"Oi!" Matt said and shoved the pillow down over his head, the only thing keeping the wall from seeing his icy glare. Another neighbour that'd just blare clown music at 1am while he was trying to have sex? No thank you. He didn't wanna even look at any more freaks, which might as well have been everyone.

Matt was what he considered to be your average vlog student.

Shockingly tall, failing the philosophy classes he always figured he'd be good at, prone to angry attacks, addicted to bullying kids on the internet and huffing whipped cream cans.

The usual.

He seized a Nirvana hoodie from the floor and tugged it over his head. The person moving in must've finally got to their new room because Me Too by Meghan Trainor started blaring from the other room.

Ha. Figures the next person would have no taste in music as well.

He seized his headphones and put his "I hate the world" playlist on shuffle, willing to bet his right penis ball that any song to come on would be better than whatever drivel the new guy had just put on. Now he heard muffled voices coming from the other room. Ugh. Jax; At least his song just started.

Jax. She and her ilk wouldn't be able to tell music from a dog with constipation.

They would probably think that the song he was listening to right now was stupid, dumb, a waste of the air it used to travel on.

But he could saw it for what it truly was. He saw it for the tragic tale of loss, in whatever way it comes as, the pain and confusion it can bring.

How the pain of losing something can make you go to something similar, if only because it reminds you of that. But it doesn't work out, it never does, because the world is a cruel place like that. It is cruel and nonsensical, and ultimately doesn't have any sort of theme to it at all.

If anything, it has just the opposite; a collection of events that shock and hurt you, just because they can, where the okay-ish moments are all too short and the bad moments never stop dragging on, until you almost can't wait for them to end.

The melody filled Matt's ears as he tapped his fingers to the beat.

'Eyem 'enery the eighth eye am! 'Enery the eighth eye am, eye am!'

Matt eased himself back onto his bed and nodded as he considered jerking off if only out of spite.

'Eye got married tuh the widow next door! She's been married seven times before!'

He twirled the zipper around his index finger.

'And every one was an 'enery! ('Enery!) She wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam- No Sam!'

Matt scoffs. Sounds like most girls he meets.

'Eye'm her eighth old man eyem 'enery!'

'Enery the eighth eye am...'

The lyrics continued, but not from Matt's mouth.

Matt spun around to face the door, unaware of the new voice; not Jax's, no, deeper... a quiet voice, yet those five words were clear as day.

A small fluffy black cat had sneaked into Matt's room, it was peacefully sitting on the floor, right behind the line that separated the dorm and the hallway. Matt was glad he didn't start ironically masturbating. Casting a worried glance, he stared at the feline.