I have a selection of stories on Nifty, GayAuthors, Iomfats and CornerCafe. If you would like to read more of my content. Check out my authors tag on Nifty or visit my website to find everything you need.
My Website - www.dk-daniels.com
As always, don't steal. Consider charity for Nifty, or if you want to join the community I'm building, pick up your hammers and nails and support me on Patreon if you can. (Links are on my website.)
Lastly, feedback is crucial, I love hearing from your guys so don't be afraid to drop an email. I have not received the feedback I was hoping for. You can find me at danny2017writing@outlook.com
Check out my Patreon for early access to chapters.
A special thanks to my patrons: Samuel Roe (Cynus), Thomas Tallis,
Authors note: In writing, it is often hard at times to capture certain accents, speech patterns, colloquialisms and common text that is usually not used in a proper manner of English. However, to achieve the following story certain liberties need to be taken with spelling, grammar and punctuation to give the story the power it require 's. Please allow me this and go with the flow as, at specific events in the story, the need for social media among young people is an ever-growing trend. And of which will occasionally be demonstrated within the current account.
The pronunciation of the protagonist's name is r-ee-s simlir to the same Reese.
No Mutual Friends Part 1
Hi Rhys,
Charlie White wants to be friends with you on Facebook.
John White No Mutual Friends Thanks, The Facebook Team To: rhysevens@email.com Subject: About Earlier!!!! Message:
Hey Rhys. I've been thinkin for ages; you've no idea how hard it is for me to do this but do you think we could maybe get to know each other more. I'm not any weird creep- promise. I go to school with you. We are in the same year; only you don't really notice me. I know who you are though. Everyone knows who you are. Every time I pass you in the hall I love seeing you. You always make my day because you are so pretty. Of course, my name is not John White; I have no idea why I set up an account with such a creepy name in the first place. I guess it is worth noting that I am a boy, and I don't want to tell you my real name in case you freak the hell out or something. The reason for all the anonymity is because well... I am gay, and I'm gay for you... yeah, that sounded awkward. Anyhow, if we could please talk sometime, it would be great. I saw what you did today to Jason Palomino. I just want to say that you are a perfect example of what people need to stand-up to bullies. I liked you before you did what you did today, and well now I like you even more. It would be great to have a conversation with you in person, although I don't think that would happen anytime soon or if ever. You never know; I might absently bump into you one morning in school and get talking to you, the possibilities are endless, except I am too pussy actually to approach someone like you. Please I know I am weird, possibly odd, but why did you stick up for a gay kid? Nobody does, except you.
Is it weird that I want to reply...? There is an odd churning like sensation in my stomach that makes me want to investigate further. I have been hesitant to respond until now. From last night after shower time, I have viewed the message about one-hundred times and every time I land on a conclusion I am afraid to make the leap. What if it is the guys playing a prank, or what if is a closeted kid. Either way, I haven't been able to bring myself to block the unknown person. At the moment you'd think I'd navigate to the person's profile and unfriend them but no... I can't bear myself to do that either. Alternatively, I have taken up a stance at remaining neutral about the entire situation. At first, I concluded it was a stupid anagram or puzzle with the name that you see in all those detective shows.
Except I couldn't compare a match to anybody or any phrase to my knowledge. It's funny now, knowing that when I go to school, I'll have a secret admirer among my peers and having no idea who it is is worrisome. A part of me wants to believe it is a joke and the problem will go away, or the person behind it will get tired after one message. Although, another piece of me craves to hear more from this person. I suppose it takes a lot of balls to message me, regardless if their identity is masked. I seem to have respect which I can't entirely affirm yet, although presently I have no comprehension as to why I am not sick by the notion that another boy likes me. I don't even like me.
I didn't protect Charlie Golding for the entire faculty and school to get behind me and support me for it. It wasn't a personal vendetta, and it sure as hell was not because I felt sorry for Charlie Golding. Expect I have a little bit of secret, and since my secret is quite similar to Charlie's, I couldn't stand around looking at him being made a mockery. Sure, it was by a whim that I stepped in. Now the entire school is on my side funnily enough, except Jason Palomino. His Italian is well gone and given that he is living in England now you'd think that the basted would have settled down by now. The nut thinks he is part of a gang and that he has some hidden agenda to perform. I figure Jason is some 85+ years too late and in the wrong part of the world to be a run of the mill gangster. At the time it did appear to be the right thing to do. I don't think I would have been able to step back, walk off and pretend that it didn't happen. People around here are too caught up in their worlds to care honestly; therefore, I suppose I had to be the one to break the cycle.
Pulling myself from my phone, I glance out the window. A gloomy day rolled in shortly after breakfast and sitting in the passenger seat of mum's car is the last place I want to be. I hope the traffic light persists. If I see that amber light, joined by the red, then the green I know that when I step foot out of the car, I am on school property. Meaning I'll have a guy stalking me; who loves me, perhaps likes me or I don't simply know what to believe.
I am not concluding that I don't want to go to school. All my friends are there, and I do have great fun I suppose chatting with them. Only today appears strange knowing someone is watching. Is this how I seem when a girl looks at me, and I glance back to appear interested in some way. I hope I don't come off all stalkerish; that would be humiliating. As the fear set, the traffic light changed, and my mum took the left turn at the intersection and the all too familiar school building shrouded most of the suburb in the middle street. Reverting my attention to my fist, I rubbed gently at my knuckles which were a bit swollen. I have no idea why I didn't get suspended, but perhaps I was saved from the slaughterhouse because of my good deed. Instead, I got dentation so, that's going to be fun.
Sensing mum's acceleration decline; the car eventually came to a stop without her having to apply the break. Reaching across, she fixed the handbrake in place and sat mutely. I held my attention glued to my legs. I didn't have anything else to say I had said everything about why I had gotten in the fight. Only I lied, I simply lay it down to the fact that the guy was picking on Charlie because of his sexuality. I did not for one-minute mention it was due to the fact that it struck a nerve with me and that is why I wanted to stand up. The car hummed and rattled and from the corner of my eye, I could see the air freshener dangling from the centre mirror. Lifting my head, anxiously I looked at mum.
"I won't get in a fight..." I groaned and then preceded to crawl out of the car. Hoisting my school bag from the footwell, I peeped back into the vehicle, draping my arm over the top of the door.
"Promise Rhys... I can't have any more trouble coming from you," mum pleaded.
Sighing I contemplated; I don't know why am always made out to be a troubled child. I merely speak my mind, and occasionally I'll admit losing my temper, though I am not all that bad.
"I promise..." I huffed. The frustration sat in the centre of my chest already, and all I could do to comfort my concern was to fight through no matter how uncomfortable it got.
Mum leaned forward a small bit across the two seats and said, "Okay. I'll be working late tonight. Dinner is in the microwave and please don't bring home any friend's today. You are still on a cooling off period."
Nodding, I shut the door and mum drove away leaving me standing for the first time in my life timidly on the footpath. Looking from left to right I could already feel eyes on me. Possibly it is my paranoia kicking in or perhaps not. Hitching the strap of my bag on my shoulder, I drew in a deep breath and started for the main entrance. My eyes, flickering back and forward as if I had an epileptic episode to catch whose eyes were solely on me.
I have a selection of stories on Nifty, GayAuthors, Iomfats and CornerCafe. If you would like to read more of my content. Check out my authors tag on Nifty or visit my website to find everything you need.
The End Of Entry 1
My Website - www.dk-daniels.com
As always, don't steal. Consider charity for Nifty, or if you want to join the community I'm building, pick up your hammers and nails and support me on Patreon if you can. (Links are on my website.)
Lastly, feedback is crucial, I love hearing from your guys so don't be afraid to drop an email. I have not received the feedback I was hoping for. You can find me at danny2017writing@outlook.com
Check out my Patreon for early access to chapters.
A special thanks to my patrons: Samuel Roe (Cynus), Thomas Tallis,