KILL SOMEBODY LIKE YOU// YUNGBLUD

ENDME

Most of my free time at work consist of me on my phone, browsing Instagram. Saving, liking, sharing memes, and rarely ever reporting spam,

Ever since Tumblr lost its real meaning of existence, the porno/spam bots flooded the pages of Instagram like blood thirst lunatics.

"Hey ;*... [pls click on link, I'm begging you, my fake family needs you to chat with me and see my virus infected nudes].

When his music started to become a thing, I realized I recognized his slow overtake of my search/recommended for you page.

My sister, Andromeda (my grandparents were hippies and named my mom Tulip, thus my mom named us 'sky' names because she loves space so much. Our dad had no say, lucky we even got his last name) who is 15, loves Yungblud.

She tried to turn me on to him, desperate for my approval.

"Andy, I'm a 20 year old woman who listens to Pearl Jam and music that is actually good."

She googled the singer for Pearl Jam, "he's old and ugly now, Dom is young and hot." I thought I was gonna seize right then right there in the comfort of my own room.

"Cas, you can't judge him because he was Disney," she whined out, playing his obnoxious music.

"Yes I can, and I will," I took her by her bony teenaged arms and looked her in the eye, she's only an inch or so smaller than me, but she's supposed to hit a two inch growth spurt in the next year.

"Look, mom and dad raised me in good, sensible music, like Pearl Jam, and audioslave and nirvana and so many more bands your dumb friends wear but don't listen to, and they failed to do that with you." I let her go, ruffling her dark thick brown hair.

She left my room with his music still playing, it faded to nothingness once she reached her room, then it became muddled by walls when she hooked it up to her stereo.

I honest to god tried to listen to his music, but my poor damned soul will never truly like the pop laden pop punk. Pop punk is great when you don't let yourself become him. I mean, he's also Disney, of course he's musically inclined.

It held some jam, it was punk, it was rock, it made my eye twitch and gave me stomach ulcers (exaggerated, but very much needed, the kid tore at my flesh.)

I hooked up my dingy headphones, playing my SOAD playlist and got ready for work, who knows what kinda shit I have to go through today with middle aged assbags?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last time I had seen his Instagram page, he didn't have many posts, just his face, music and no dates for concerts.

I don't know how she even discovered the guy or even liked his music, he had pennies worth of music. Mind you, I don't go deep sea searching for this shit like her. Should've named her Mariana.

That's why when she came into my room crying about him being in the US, I was kind of shocked, but that was back in August and it was mid October when she did this.

"Cas, I know we can make it to the Seattle one!" She had ran to our parents minutes prior telling me, they were already taking out their debit cards when shetold me.

My mom gently knocked on the door, coming into Andromeda rolling on my floor with her phone pointed at me.

"Hey honey, could you get some time off for Andy's concert?" They didn't even listen to his music? Not ask their one million questions?

"By myself?" She pulled up the skirt of her brightly colored fall themed dress and sat next to my sister, who is having an emotional breakdown on, specifically, my pink fluffy rug.

"Of course, you've gone to Vegas at 17 with your friends with fake IDs. That's a 6 hour drive from us, and you made it back alive. You did that like three times, I only act like I know of the one time." I sat into my computer chair, I felt sick. She knew.

"Casanova, I've done worse, dad has done worse. Your grandparents even ditched home to be at Woodstock, I'll pay for the rental car, baby."

Andy looked up at me with pleading eyes, if I didn't answer soon, she wouldn't be able to get tickets.

Unfortunately I was an hour too early with my yes because the tickets sold out an hour later.

I drove down the street to a nice local indoor skate park, they get busy when it snows here in Reno.

I came to cruise on my long board, ready to mentally prepare myself for fucking Seattle. Like, how the hell am I supposed you navigate my dumbass around?

Great, now I have no choice but to fucking take shots of bleach to forget his music afterwards.

Lavender, what a good scent. Mostly I thought about different ways of getting fucked off after the show in the hotel, pop music, especially his fucking waste, made me crawl.

I knew I had to act liked I care, and treat her first concert like losing her virginity.

My first concert was pretty decent, so I should at least give kudos the kid likes some weird English bum who has some attractive points in the eye area and some semblance of rock music.

I slunk into my cold car, frantically turning it on and blasting the heat.

I guess Andromeda deserves the world, because at some point I was excited to be an older sister and I was more than happy to get my drivers license at the age of 9 to drive her to the store to get food.

"Cmon, bring back 9 year old Casanova, just for this concert just for her." I played my 90s alt playlist on the slow drive home, preparing myself in a few weeks to be out in Seattle.

~~~~~~~A/N~~~~~~~~

Author here of this craptabulous fanfic, in which I do so apologize if it sucks this far.

Disclaimer as the story goes: I don't have a lick of an idea of how the guy speaks not in front of a camera, and of course like every fuckin fic, don't know much besides what's online, so let's keep this at no friendly fire.

But I partially don't care cause I'm doing this for fun and for fans, like me.

Enjoy, star that bitch, bookmark this bleeding dog, share it on Pornhub or with your grandparents who hate Punk.

🖤🖤🖤Rock on motherfuckars! 🖤🖤🖤