Be More Chill, Dante! {Vylante BMC AU}

Chapter 1: More Than Survive

~Dante~

(***)

"C-C-C-C'mon, c-c-c-c'mon, go, go! C-C-C-C'mon, c-c-c-c'mon, go, go!"

I furiously clicked on the mouse button, anxiously waiting for my computer to load. I shifted uncomfortably in my swivel chair, wanting to bang my head off of the computer screen. Stupid slow internet...

I'm waiting for my porno to load my brain is gonna frikkin' explode! I glanced down at the time on my computer screen. I groaned, realizing I had to head out to school in a few minutes. I reluctantly stood up, stretching a little, and quickly dug through my closet.

"And now of course it's time to hit the road,", I mumble to myself, struggling to get my pants on, "which means I'll be uncomfortable all day... But that really isn't such a change. If I'm not feeling weird or super strange my life would be in utter disarray, 'cuz freaking out is my ok..."

I grabbed a random striped shirt, and my red jacket, throwing them on carelessly. Was it weird that I talked to myself? Probably... Maybe that's another reason why I'm such a loser...

"Good morning, time to start the day!" I exclaimed loudly, bolting from my room to the bathroom, across the hall. "C-C-C-C'mon, C-C-C-C'mon, go, go! C-C-C-C'mon, C-C-C-C'mon, go, go!"

I looked over myself in the bathroom mirror. I ran a hand through my dark blue hair, pushing it out of my same colour eyes, to not appear as slobby as usual. Checking around real quick, to see of the coast was clear, I lifted up my shirt to search for signs of any muscles forming.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open, and a tall man with jet black hair, and piercing dark blue eyes. I yelped, letting my shirt fall back down, and covered my chest anyways. I glared at the man- who was pantsless, mind you- folding my arms over my chest.

"Dad!" I yelled, attempting to shoo him out of the bathroom. "Haven't you heard of privacy?"

"We're all men in this house," Dad chuckled, strutting over to the toilet. I immediately turned away, disgusted. "Pretend we're in the army."

Dad, you were never in the army!

"Just... When I get home... Please have pants on. Okay?" I basically pleaded, sliding towards the door of the bathroom.

"Ten-hut!" My dad saluted, going back to his business, as I slipped out the door.

"Now should I take the bus or walk instead?" I asked myself, darting down the stairs and out the front door, after grabbing my red backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. I feel my stomach filling up with dread. When I get nervous my whole face goes red...

Dude, weigh the options calmly and be still...

"A junior on the bus is killer weak," I thought aloud, slouching as I walked down my driveway, past my dad's car. "But if I walk when I arrive I'm gonna straight-up reek. And my boxers will be bunchy and my pits will leak... Oh, gah! I wish I had the skill; to just be fine, and cool, and chill!"

The bus pulled up to a stop, and I reluctantly stepped on. I made my way towards the back, which was the most 'reasonable' place to sit on the school bus. I chucked my backpack into the seat, flopping down onto the leather. I stared out the window, watching everything pass by.

I don't want to be a hero, just wanna stay in the line. I'll never be a Rob Deniro... For me, Joe Pesci is fine... And so I follow my own rules, and I use them as my tools to stay alive...