Chapter 3: Really just a simple favor (Y/N)

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Please note there are mentions of suicide/substance abuse in this chapter, so reader discretion is advised


This has got to be one of the most uncomfortable dates of all time. Not that you've been on many, but if this is what dating is like, you think it's time to ask your parents for an arranged marriage. And it's not that your date is ugly or anything too. Stan's wearing an oversized blue and red jacket with a pair of ripped blue jeans. He has a little bit of scruff on his chin, with his hair dyed blonde rather than natural, something you could tell by his black roots still showing. He didn't look so much like a creep as Kyle predicted, more like a washed up rock star wearing clothes from the kids section of a Wal-Mart. But your main problem with him is how fucking boring he's acting right now.

You've been making polite conversation with him for the past 5 minutes, and he's giving you nothing to work with. When you asked about his day so far, he gave you a curt 'fine', then didn't bother to ask about yours. So you try again, telling him that you recently started a job at a law firm, but he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but listening to you.

What a dick you think. I mean, he was the one who practically begged to have this date with me, yet he's acting like I'm not even here! Fuck my life.

"Hey, do you have any friends you think you could set me up with?" He asks, and it takes all your willpower to not openly slap him across the face.

Is he insane? Or does he find me so utterly awful that he's decided he's done with this date and wants to start planning his next one. Piece of shit.

"Like any cute friends?" He asks again. "Anyone with, let's say, straight black hair and choppy bangs in the front. And black eyes you can feel your soul getting lost in, that make you feel safe and like she's gonna take care of you forever... Oh, and a pink beret, maybe in some childhood photos or maybe still now?"

"Wendy? Are you asking about my roommate Wendy?"

His eyes light up when you mention her name and you feel your heart sink.

"Wait, so you asked me on a date only so you could get one with my roommate? Are you fucking serious? Nah, fuck you and fuck whatever this is." You get up to leave and make it out the door before he grabs you by the arm.

"Y/N please. I swear, I never meant to play you or anything, I'm not that kind of guy. Just let me explain." Stan pleads with you.

"Did you set up this date because you genuinely like me or because you're a stalker creep who likes my roommate so much that you'd do anything to get with her? Cause if it's the second one, that explains everything to me right there." You say, and he turns silent.

You look at your phone and the clock reads 6:15. You wonder if Kyle's still nearby when Stan interrupts your thoughts.

"Look, Y/N. I'm sorry, it's true. I did set up this date because I wanted you to help me get in touch with Wendy, but please hear me out. I met Wendy when we were in pre-school, and I've been in love with her ever since. We were one of those on again-off again couples in middle school, but during high school I fucked up. She broke up with me and moved away for college, while I stayed in that shithole town and let the loneliness consume me. I hated myself for letting her get away, for losing one of the most perfect girls to ever exist. But I came to my senses, decided enough was enough and came here."

You hate how sincere he sounds, and you feel yourself sympathizing with him. With a heavy sigh, you start walking back to your apartment, and motion for him to follow.

"I don't know Wendy that well, but I really like her. Also, she's doing well right now. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some douchey ex of hers come into her life and screw it all up. So I have to know the full story, which you're gonna tell me as we walk back to my apartment. If it's good enough, I'll invite you in to meet her, but if not, you leave both her and I the hell alone. Deal?"

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