>"Hey, Anon! Wanna come to a party I'm throwing?"
>The view of your lunch is blocked by a white envelope being shoved in your face, the words "To Anon" scribbled on the front in pink with glitter
>Looking up from the envelope, you find yourself face-to-face with Pinkie Pie, the school crackhead, with the biggest smile on his face
>At least you think he's on crack from how much you see him bounce around the school, trying to invite everyone to whatever "party" he's throwing that day.
>How does he even know your name?
"How do you even know my name?"
>"Why wouldn't I know your name silly? We have, like, all of the same classes"
>Oh yeah
>He's also the girl who walked into music class as a one man band on the first day.
"Right. How could I forget?"
>"So, can you make it?"
>He says this as he nurses a lollipop in his mouth
>You swear you remember seeing this nigga eat a literal mountain of sugar one lunch period
"No thanks, Pinkie. I'm busy"
>Partying with a crackhead is bad enough, but partying with one hopped up on sugar is a definite no
>"Oh come on, Anon! You always say you're busy!"
"Because I always am"
>Pinkie slams both hands on the lunch table as he leans closer to you, almost knocking your food onto your lap
>"Can't you say yes for once? You've never come to any of my parties!"
>His eyes go wide, begging you to change your answer
>Those eyes
>It's weird, but you can't help but look into them
>Their blueness reminiscent of the sky itself. It's almost calming in a way
>Wait
>Wait
>Why the fuck are you thinking about some dude's eyes like that? What are you, gay?
>You highly doubt that. Otherwise you'd go for someone who's actually, you know, manly.
>Not that you were checking him out or anything, but Pinkie has a girlish ass figure, hips and all
>It doesn't help that you've never seen him in anything other than blue short-shorts either
>Hell, slap some tits on him and grow his hair out and he'd prolly make a decent trap
>No
>Get that out of your head
>Traps may not be gay but trying to make one in your head definitely is
>"Helloooo? Earth to Anon!"
>Oh shit he's still here
"Didn't I already say no, Pinkie?"
>"But I really want you to come to this one. I promise it's gonna be special"
"Why me specifically? And special how?"
>He's grinning from ear to ear
>"That's a surprise!"
>Holy shit he's trying to murder you
>How else would a random ass party be 'special' for you specifically?
"Yeah, no. I'm not one for surprises"
>Or parties, but that's beside the point
>"But everyone likes surprises!"
"Guess I'm the exception"
>"Come on, you've gotta"
"Nope"
>"...Not even a little"
>His smile falters not so subtlety as your swear his eyes lose a bit of color
>You'd almost feel bad for him if you weren't convinced he was trying to kill you
>He probably wasn't but you're not taking any chances
"Sorry, bro. Even if I was free, I'm just not a party person"
>"Oh...If you say so"
>You swear you heard something break, but you're not sure what
>"Well, the invitation's there with the address if you change your mind. It's tomorrow at four"
"I doubt it, but thanks for inviting me"
>He smiles a little at you thanking him
>"Anytime"
>He hands you the invitation and walks out of the lunch room doors right before the bell rings
>You get up, your food barely eaten thanks to him, and brace yourself the last period before your weekend starts
>You somehow make it home after suffering through Discord's math class
>You swear that prick only became a math teacher to make it even more confusing than it already is
>But fuck that, you're home now, which can only mean one thing
"Time to fuck around on the piano till I pass out!"
>You weren't a math nigga by any means, but music was your shit
>It's pretty much the perfect thing for a loner like you to be decent at
>Sure a lot of what you make is unfinished, but it's not like you have anyone to show it to anyway
"..."
>So you end up fucking around in Ableton for a few hours, taking breaks to eat and watch some anime like the weeb trash you are
>This is the fucking life
>After a few cycles of progress and procrastination you decide to really listen to what you made
>And of course, it's shit
"Great job, Anon. Another piece to put on the back-burner forever"
>You love music, you swear
>For some reason though you can never find it in you to finish anything
>It's not like you suck at playing instruments either
>I mean, you're no prodigy but you pick them up well enough
>You won't be doing any crazy shit like playing two at once anytime soon though
>Or three
>Or six, like Pinkie did that one time
>Come to think of it, how the hell did he do that?
>It was actually pretty impressive looking back on it
>He just fucking strolled in with drums on his back, guitar in his hands as he alternated between a harmonica, tuba, and whatever else he had with his mouth
>You'd actually think he was a pretty cool guy, if that was the only time you saw him.
>But of course after that he just started pestering you and everyone else at school with constant party invites every day
>Does anyone even go to them?
>With how many he seems to throw they must be popular right?
>He seemed pretty desperate for you to come though, so you don't know
>Why are you even thinking about this? It's not like you're ever gonna go
>He looked sad as hell when you said no though.
>Usually he just says some shit like "Okie doki loki" and just asks you to come to the next one
>Why was this time so special?
>You think back to earlier today when you said no
>How his shoulders slumped
>How his usual peppy voice was barely louder than a whisper after your third or so refusal
>He acted like you stole his candy or something
>Which someone should sometime, cause constantly eating all that shit can't be good for him
>Not that you really care how he lives cause your ass eats junk food more often than not too
>It's not like you owe him anything anyway. If you're busy, you're busy
>Even though you weren't and just didn't want to show up this time
>Or anytime he asked you, hoping you wouldn't blow him off
>Actually going out of his way to invite you every time, despite you never talking to anyone
>...Are you actually feeling sorry for him?
>Nah. You can't be
>Granted, it's a dick move saying no every time, but that doesn't make you a bad person right?
>Fuck it, you're overthinking this. Time for bed
>Which is what a normal, non-insomniac would do
>Instead you just lie awake in bed, trying not to think about Pinkie or whether you're an asshole or not
>Eventually darkness comes, and silence follows as you finally find sleep
 
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I65gxc1AFyM
>Wake up
>Try not to think about Pinkie
>Take a shower
>Try not to think about Pinkie
>Check the time. It's 9 am
>The party starts at four
>But you're not going
"Argh fuck!"
>How do people go back to being assholes after they realize that they are?
>Why can't you just ignore how sad he was?
>Nope. Don't dwell on that
>Maybe some food will help
>You put on some boxers and head to the kitchen
>It's that time again
"Frosted flakes bitch!"
>You grab the box of sugar flakes and dump it into your favorite jumbo bowl
>What's frosted flakes without pb&j though?
>Shit, that's what
>So you piece together the sandwich of the gods then pour milk into your bowl
>Sugar is best served with milk after. Diabeetus be damned
>You down the sugar with a side a sandwich in a minute and a half
>Not awful, but not your best time
>Pinkie would prolly be faster
>Shit
>It's like a fucking cycle
>You'll get over it soon enough though
>...
>...
>No you won't
>You check the time
>10:30
>It shouldn't be too late to try and be a bro
 
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OG3PnQ3tgzY
>You spend a few hours trying to decide what to actually wear to a party
>Your wardrobe was mostly solid color t-shirts and comfy-as-fuck sweatpants
>You decided on a blue tye-dye shirt, gray jeans, and some black KD Trey V's
>If there was one thing you promised to never be cut up for, it's your shoes
>Look in the mirror
>Feel fresh as fuck
>Looking the left, you find that the clock reads 1:02
>You play some Jak 3
>2:12
>You listen to some Sondheim
>3:47
>It's about that time
>Standing up, you try and ignore that feeling of nervousness buried in your chest
>It's like someone rubbed icy hot on your heart
>This wouldn't be happening if this wasn't your first time going to a party
>Keeping to yourself and spending your free time in the piano room didn't do much to help your social status
>People weren't really breaking down doors to invite you to anything
>Except one
>All the more reason to go this time
>Fuck being nervous
>Fuck social retardation
>Whatever happens, you're gonna try and enjoy it
 
>If you hadn't looked at the address an hour beforehand, you'd have most likely freaked out over being late
>There's slim chance of that happening however, seeing as how this guy lives exactly four houses down from you.
>Which you think you'd have noticed a long time ago, if you ever went outside
>Putting that aside you, now stand in front of a pretty large, dark magenta house
>A black, cast iron gate surrounds the structure.
>It was almost enough to convince you that you skipped a house and ended up at the local cemetery
>But the three balloons--two blue and one yellow--hanging at the top of the gate's entrance told another story
>You open the gate, it's harsh creaks like sandpaper against your eardrums.
>One foot follows the other till you're at the door, ringing its bell.
>Silence
>Then a gasp
>Followed by what you believe is Pinkie talking loudly to someone in the house
>You can't make out his muffled words with the door in your way
>Suddenly, the door swings open and you find yourself not staring at Pinkie, but instead at a dark violet-haired girl who's responding with a stare of her own
>At a glance her appearance screams...
>Monotone
>You didn't even know monotone could scream
>"Can I help you?"
>Lord, her voice
>You were kidding about the monotone
"O-oh um, yeah."
>"Okay"
>Her expression remains unchanged and she almost looks through your eyeballs
>It's creeping you out
"Is something wrong?"
>"No"
>It takes a while before she speaks up again
>"You haven't told me what I can help you with"
"Oh! Well, I was told t-there was a party here and"
>Damn it you're bad with girls
>"You must be here for Pinkie"
"Yeah! That's it. I'm guessing he's home?"
>Her eyebrows raise for a minute before settling down as she further opens the door
>"...Come on in"
>What the hell are you getting into?