Eric ‘Reb’ Harris

January third, nineteen ninety nine, Eric’s Home. —

He is a fucking IDIOT. Really, what was he thinking? Gosh, the only reason he did this was because Dylan wouldn’t shut up sbout him needing to lose his v-card before the NBK plan went into action, ‘cuz duuuude, it’s an experience every man should have!!’, and listen, Eric loves him and all, but but he’s got him nearly convinced that Dylan was gonna practically jump his bones the moment he got out of that German lesson and into the smokers pit. Not that he would mind too much, he’s seen how talented Dylan can be with his hands, he’s seen him at the range.

Wait, why was he angry again? Oh yeah, he’d been bullied into giving one of the hottest people in their year his AoL that he’d crudely scribbled onto the back of some notebook paper. He felt like a fucking dork having to write out ‘RebDoomer’ in real life, especially since that person knows his face now, and has almost every lesson the same as him. He’s pretty sure they were one of the people who’d spent most of the year so far pulling his website up in school assemblies to bully him. It’s fine, after NBK he’ll never have to see them again.

He’s still silently cursing Dylan as he types and untypes his message to this person, before he contemplates just never even messaging them. Eventually, he gives in and types out a long message and just presses send, not even double checking.

REBDOOMER-: “did you see that new Doom patch, I think it’s pretty ass, but whatever, you probably don’t even care abt doom or me”

REBDOOMER-: “you know, preps like u are all the same, ur just the prettiest so me and Dylan spare you from having to piss urself over checking ur mail box in the morning”

REBDOOMER-: “You are NOTHING to me other then something to look at”