Skip BEAT (boyxboy X fanfiction) [hiatus]

Chapter 5

*phone rings*

I grab it with my left arm and I swipe the screen to answer it.

“mmmmm…”

“Okay go back to sleep” said by a woman’s voice. supposedly

My mom’s voices. But not really

I don’t want to open my eyes yet so I this prank caller do its thing.

“Just awake Ma, what is it?” I ride along

“Nothing, I just wanted to drop a call and see if you are awake.” She, I mean he said after chuckling

“Well now I am Jason. Thanks. Geez. Dumb-o” I said sarcastically to her

I heard a chuckle across the line and the sighed.

Oh Jason, when you knew I answer morning calls eyes closed. Ugh

“Okay I’ll see you there in a bit.” he replied now in a stern, natural speaking voice. Then cut it.

In a bit?

Dang it!

He was going here without saying anything before he go here?

That shoot me up standing and wide-eyed scanned my flat.

My flat is a mess. I can’t still do so many things. This damn right hand and chest is still killing me.

I can’t like laugh so hard. Because I fell like my ribcage will shatter and fall of to pieces if I did to. I can’t even heave or sighed in a big way, the way I wanted to at times, and it just freaking pissed me off. I can’t sing songs because it hurt, really, it hurts.

Like even right now. How can I fix all of this mess when I have this arm support in my right hand and some freaking hurting chest.

I hate this.

I freaking hate my life right now.

Now that this thing have came up again. Let me remind myself: I freaking hate you, you fucking jerk!

All of these will never fucking happen because of him.

That prick.

Okay, stop cussing today okay. Jason will come. I will be your good ego this time.

Stop being the good boy, sarcastic one. You never are one.

Oh geez, I am trying to help you here. To act calmly as you could so your Jason won’t super freakout when he sees your arm supporter later.

Fuck you

I hissed at myself to stop my mind war.

“Clean the mess.” I whispered as I walk through heaps of mess.

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“Coming!” I shouted as I heard someone has knocked the door.

I was currently trying my best to clean the dishes at the counter. So I rush myself to get the door.

Well, this is it.

“Hey, -- What the heck?!” he greeted / shouted

I chuckled.

That is the only thing that I can do.

What else? Breakdown and cry?

That will never happen. Even though this thing hurts like hell. I won’t cry, I’m not a cry baby.