Today was another stale day for (Y/N).
He woke up at nine o'clock on a Saturday morning, rustling in bed like he was a child annoyed at his parents. However, what it really meant is that he had turned his body to an uncomfortable position and was trying desperately to get back to the position he was in before.
Nevertheless, he became soon clear to him that trying to adjust to another position that was as pleasant as the one he had been in while his mind was shut and dysfunctional, at least from what he could tell, was nigh impossible, and that the only thing he could really do was get up and do something valuable.
But what one considered "valuable" differed from person to person, and for (Y/N), doing something valuable meant going on his console or singing some song he liked, even if his parents, who ever-so loved being away, asked him if he wanted to go somewhere.
And after getting out of bed, that's exactly what he did, going to his console, turning it on as well as his recording software, and picking up his guitar, ready to mash some buttons once again.
It was the same routine, same exact order, same exact motions, all done with such precision and perfection that it seemed like he had done it nearly one-thousand times (he had). Once he was done recording, he would immediately go to his computer and slam away at his keyboard like clockwork, eventually stopping, waiting for the video to finally finish uploading, looking at the comments, and then going back to sleep.
Today, he was sure he was going to follow the same routine. He always had. However, before he could even start playing a song, (Y/N) realized something:
He was going out somewhere with someone else in less than a week.
And in response to this stunning revelation (that he, admittedly, had caused by his own actions), his voice box started to stretch, his body started to curl into a ball, and his words, well...
"AHHHHH!!!!!! What the hell am I going to do?! I'm going outside with someone in less than a week! I can't just play Guitar Hero! I need to figure out what to wear, what to do, where we should go..." (Y/N)'s mind had kicked into overdrive. What was he going to do with such little time? Even though he had requested it himself, a week now seemed like too little time.
Quickly dropping his (fake) guitar on the floor, (Y/N) ran to his closet to see what he could potential outfit himself with on the day he and Gotou went out, only to find two sets of clothing: what he wore to school and a shirt with a rock band's name on it, some long pants, and literally nothing else.
Looking at his blackhole of a closet, (Y/N) only blinked, took out his wallet from his pocket, and looked inside it.
YOU ARE READING
First Friend (Male Reader x Bocchi the Rock)
FanfictionThere is a border between "socially inept" and "socially awkward," and then there's (Y/N). However, that doesn't mean that there aren't people exactly like him, and during an odd day, he would meet someone unexpected, becoming his first friend.
