The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Seed of Doubt

"I'll kindly give you 20 bucks to fuck off and never do that again," I say, slamming a twofer on the table.

Aiden grins, tilting his head sideways to allow his hair to fall in front of his head, only to whip it away like a cheap shampoo commercial at the last minute. I can hear a girl in the front point a cell phone at him while swooning. Sounds suspiciously like Laila. Wait, no, that's Leeland... with long, blue hair. God dammit, is he a Broopie for Aiden now? He stole one of my TAB/Gs! "I don't know what you're talking about, brah."

"The fuck you are. You just finished my chapter!"

"Ah, you mean by commercial break, right?" he says. "I didn't want my viewers to get bored during the ads. Showbiz 101, brah. Always end on a high note and keep 'em wanting for more, right?"

He then turns around at a wall and winks at it. Wait, does he have a T.V show? Why in the sweet bepis of Al Gore does this fuck have a T.V show and I'm stuck in a subpar online serialized book? This is bullshit.

"Look here, you rejected blue-man group reboot prototype. My readers," I say. "I am the protagonist of this story. I get to say when this story ends."

"Sure you are, brah. Sure you are," he says, grabbing the seat next to him and pulling it for me. "Now, take back your money, sit down, and let's have a nice conversation, just you and I. We've never had an episode to ourselves."

"A chapter," I correct. "Because this is a book, not a show."

"Tell that to Paramount," says Aiden.

"Dicks to that," I say. Really, dicks to that. I'm not taking any chances. "Hey, teach. Sure I can't just make the assignment alone?"

Mrs. Fannybottom turns around in a flash, her bodacious badonkadonk bouncing a bunsen burner from a table across the room, hitting Leeland straight in the face. Nice. "I'm very sure, Mr. Gomez. You are a Taurus, and the horoscope today says that being alone will bring you great chaos. Also, your lucky number is 20. You can change partners if somebody is willing to do it, but groups have been assigned for a few weeks already. I'm sure-"

So, 20 is my lucky number, right? Let's put this one to the test. I take the twenty bucks and raise it into the air. "Who wants to trade partners for twenty bucks?"

I barely finish speaking when the bills are taken from my hands, followed by an arm grabbing me by the neck and pulling me closer to them. I can smell the exposition from here.

"Hi, hello, friend, friendo, buddy, best bud!" says the milquetoast voice of gonorrhea made human, because you always think it goes away, only to return worse than ever: Billiam Exposito. "I'll do you a solid and take that Aiden fella out of your hands. And those twenty bucks. You can take my partner."

He points with his thumb behind him to reveal a very fidgeting Laila, beet red, and whispering something about how soft is my smell or some weird shit.

"No, thank you," I say, sliding away from him. "I prefer to brave my chances with the bad boy."

He places the bills in his pockets, slipping away with a cha-cha-cha in his step. "Hey, no backsies! I don't offer refunds. Besides, the money feels so good in my pocket. So warm."

Fine. 20 is my lucky number, after all. If fate wants it.

I go and take a seat with... ugh, Laila, which makes her shiver like a chilly tomato.

"Ohmygosh, Ayden is sitting next to me! Look out, the beaver dam is gonna burst!" she whispers/yells.

I immediately regret my decision.

Suddenly, I see a hand touching Laila's shoulder. I swear I can almost see her eyes roll back from pure ecstasy. Of course, the hand is followed by a tuft of blue hair fuckery with a smirk and a can-do attitude. "Hey, baby. Wanna be a doll and trade partners with me?" To punctuate his douchebaggery, he grabs her by the chin with a finger, lifting her up. Why does it suddenly sound like a waterfall? "Pretty please?"