Starstruck - Shawn Mendes / boyxboy

Chapter Three: Internet Friend?

Edited: No

Jacob's POV

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the doctor to see if it's broken?" Michele asked concerned.

"Yeah I'm sure." I said while holding my ankle which feels like it's throbbing and sore to the touch.

"What are you even going to tell your mom? Like she's going to be worried sick about you." Michele said pointing out our first obstacle.

"I'll just tell her that I fell or something and like twisted my ankle. I'm pretty sure she'll believe it." I explained to her.

"You can lie about your ankle injury, but not faking to be sick just to miss school?" Michele asked, to help raise my spirit.

"Well, I'm sorry I have perfect attendance." I answered, earning a laugh from Michele.

"Nice conversation Jacob, we're here." Michele said unlocking the doors.

"Thanks for the ride bestie." I said leaving the car.

"No problem bestie," She responded, mocking me. "Don't forget to put ice and rest your ankle!" Michele yelled out her window.

"I won't! Bye!" I responded waving at her. She quickly waved back at me before pulling out of the driveway.

I entered my house and saying my usual sentence, even though my mom is most likely not home right now.

"Mommy, the sunshine of my life, your King is here!" I said walking awkwardly to the couch due to my ankle injury. There was no response, so I assumed that I home alone. I walked to my room and once I entered, I immediately started running to my bed and jumping, face-planting on a bunch of pillows. I turned around and looked at the picture frame holding my tickets, a smile forming on my face.

"Two more days Shawn, two more. In two days, I will meet you. I just have to survive until then." I whispers to myself for falling into a deep hole of sleep.

-=+=-

I woke up at around 7 am and did a quick stretch before waking downstairs. The house was quiet, as per usual because I was always home alone most of the time, and I walked into the kitchen to grab a quick snack.

I walked to the fruit basket and grabbed a banana, peeling it and started to eat. I turned on the TV and played an old recording of the Ellen Show, but my attention towards the TV were cut short because my phone vibrated on the table.

"Michele can't be up at this time. She wakes up at like 11." I thought to myself before walking to the table and see a Twitter notification.

@ froyomendes just followed you!

I unlocked my phone to see a fan account of Shawn Mendes without any follows, and is only following 2 people, one of them being me.

"He's probably new to the fandom." I thought to myself before following him back. I locked my phone and put back down on the table and as I was about to return to watching TV, my phone vibrated once again.

"What is it this time." I whispered to myself, slightly annoyed. My phone never goes off at this time because the only friend who I text is Michele, and I turn Twitter notifications off because I don't want to be annoyed with all of the notifications of new tweets.

I checked my phone once again and it was a DM from "froyomendes"

froyomendes: hey jacob.

me: hello?

froyomendes: so how are you today?

me: the usual. so what's going on with you.

froyomendes: nothing much, so tell me about yourself! I don't really have friend in real life so I decided online might be the best option to make friends.

I smiled after reading that message because it's something I am able to relate to.

me: same.

-=+=-

Instead of watching Ellen, I was texting "froyomendes" who's real name was Jordan. He told me his story on why he didn't have friends which was basically my story. He even told me that his father has alcohol problems because his mother just left one day because of his father's view on same-sex marriage. He came out before realizing he didn't support it and ever since then, he's been getting beat while his father is drunk.

Because Jordan has told me so much of his life, I had to tell him mine. It was another person to discuss my problems to, someone who understands the struggle of living in such a judgmental society because of your sexual interests.

I just told him that my father wasn't here, because I was still not ready or emotionally prepared to tell the story of his passing.

Speaking of my father, no one knows what happened to him and I would like to keep it that way. I blame myself for his death, and even Michele doesn't know why I blame myself. All she knows is that I take fault for his death, but doesn't even know how he died.

I've been afraid to tell people about him because if you couldn't tell, my school is full of rude, ignorant, and judgmental people so they don't deserve to know.

After his death, my mom found a therapist for me so I could talk to her about his death, and which is why I'm afraid to tell people why I blame myself because I will just be told the same answer.

"It's not your fault Jacob."
"Don't blame yourself for his death."
"There was nothing you can do to prevent it."

Those are lies and I refuse to believe them. Because there was something I could've done to prevent it.

My internal argument with myself was interrupted by my front door opening.

I panicked as I looked up, but my nerves were calmed because I saw Michele dropping her bag onto the floor, along with her keys before jumping onto my couch.

"Sup Hoe." Michele said as she pulled out her phone, moving on the couch to get comfortable. "So what've you been up to."

"Just talking to my new internet friend." I answered as I sat down at the same couch as she was.

"Who's your new friend you made there? Is he cute? Let me see a photo. I have to see if he's not a fuckboy. Is he nice?" Michele asked a bunch of questions, and I just laughed in response.

I've never been in a relationship, so whenever there's a "guy" in my life, she always wants to see a photo of them or hear me talk about their personality. She's basically my protective older sister when it comes to relationships.

"His name is Jordan, and I haven't seen a photo of him. But he's really nice! We've been messaging back and fourth and I can really relate to him." I answered pulling out my phone to try and show her the messages.

"You sure he isn't a you know. 40 year old perv who is soon going to ask for your nude pictures?" Michele asked with a slight laugh.

"Already ahead of you and sent them already." I responded nonchalantly. With my answer, her face paled and her eyes quickly widened.

"OH MY GOD WHAT?" She yelled confused and worried.

I burst out laughing at her outburst and she just sat there looking at my confused.

"No, that didn't happen. Bïtch has to pay me first." I answered which caused Michele to laugh and me to start laughing even harder.

"I hate you."

-=+=-
Word Count: 1,245
Updated: 6/15/2016

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