**Kind of based off 'Pump Up The Volume'. I just really love that movie, 10/10 should watch! http://www.awesomefilm.com/script/pumpupthevolume.html <-- link to the script, you should read it. Awe inspiring work, it makes you want to scream to shout to rebel against the school and the government and Trump. KEEP FIGHTING UNTIL WE WIN AGAINST HIS REIGN OF IDIOCY!!**

I slide my headphones on and flipped the 'on air' switch. My microphone/Voice changer was on my desk and my cassette player next to it. I place today's tape in, all songs in order, starting with Blur, the amazing Brit-Pop band. I smile and bop my head to the beat. This is one of the places I feel safe enough to smile. "WELCOME TO THE HELLHOLE I CALL MY RECORDING STUDIO," I say gruffly. After the troll puberty, my voice changed from a squealing wriggler to a gravelly adult. "WHERE I PUT ON WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT, WHEN I WANT IT, AND WHAT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT." I run my hand through my hair and sigh. After Blur, Mother Mother played. After that, I had to stop something was on my mind. "NONE OF YOU KNOW ME UNLESS YOU SOMEHOW FUCKING FOUND ME, FCC I'M LOOKING AT YOU." I slam the table with my fists in frustration. "BUT YOU KNOW ME ENOUGH TO LISTEN TO ME WHEN I NEED TO BE LISTENED TO." I turn down the volume on the player and lounge about in the swivel chair I usually sit in.

"WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THAT I FOUND A TROLL FOR ME. ME, A MUTANT, ME, A SCOURGE IN TROLL HISTORY." I wrap the cord of the mic around my hand as I wheel around in the chair. "I WON'T SAY HER NAME, BUT GOG STRIKE ME DOWN IF I EVER SAY SHE'S NOT PERFECT." I grunt and shake my head. "SHE'S NEVER LOOKED NICE, BUT WHO FUCKING CARES? SHE LOOKS LIKE ART AND ART ISN'T SUPPOSED TO LOOK NICE. IT MAKES YOU FEEL SOMETHING, AND SHE MAKES ME FEEL EVERYTHING." I scold myself in my head, stop ranting and get to the fucking point! 

"I CAN'T THINK ANYMORE FOLKS, OL' DEADBEAT RED IS DOWN FOR THE FUCKING COUNT. GUESS I'LL READ LETTERS, CALL IT A NIGHT FOR THE DOUCHEBAG TELLING YOU HIS SAD STORY ABOUT A GIRL HE CAN ONLY THINK OF GETTING OFF ON."  I ruffle papers, i picked up the mail early today. Fortunately, a bright red letter was in the midst of white. The love letter, steamy enough to get my listeners to jack off to and for me to forget the world for minutes. Thank Gog, I don't think I can stand the racism, the homophobia, the shit of this so-called world.

"FROM OUR WELL-KNOWN ADMIRER, 'SECRETS ARE BEST KEPT QUIET.' WELL SHIT, I HAVE NONE SINCE I SHARE THEM ON THIS STATION." 

I rip open the envelope. Instead of just a regular piece of red paper with a sarcastic writer's hand, a kiss mark of black shines. I smirk; not everyday you get this gold. 

"'RED, YOU SAY YOUR SOAKED IN THE BLOOD OF TROLLS AROUND YOU, YET YOU HAVE THE AIR OF A SAD LITTLE WRIGGLER. PATHETIC, BUT CHARMING, SWEET, BUT READY TO CRY AT THE UNFAIRNESS OF THE DEAD EARTH THAT WE ALL HAD TO MOVE TO.' NICE, ALL TRUE. YOU KNOW ME MORE THAN I KNOW MYSELF. 'YET, HERE I AM THRUSTING MYSELF INTO THE MADDENING SITUATION CALLED LUST AND LOVE. FOR YOU, OF COURSE. YOU GET ME, YOU, A MUTANT TROLL NO DIFFERENT THAN ME, GUT ME AND YOU'LL SEE MY BLACK BLOOD DRIPPING LIKE A HORROR FILM'S SEX SCENE.'" I raise my eyebrow. There aren't many blackbloods, almost all of them perished in the revolution. I only know-

It can't be. I keep reading, my voice getting louder and louder, faster and faster.

"'I KNOW YOUR GAME, NOT TO RUIN THE SHITTY SCHOOL SYSTEM, NOR TAKING OVER THE WORLD FROM FLESHY HUMANS, BUT TO MAKE EVERYONE HAVE DECENCY. THE NAKED DECENCY TO REALIZE PROBLEMS AND TO FUCKING SOLVE THEM.' I WILL BE RUINING THE SCHOOL SYSTEM, I'LL BE RUINING COUNTRIES, SHE REALIZES THAT." I mutter. I keep reading, forgetting for a brief moment that it's live and on the air.

"'I KNOW YOU AS WELL. CANDY RED BLOOD LEAKING FROM YOUR BLACK JACKET AND YOUR TIRED EYES THAT SAY 'FUCK YOUR GOVERNMENT' AND YOUR CARELESSNESS FOR SOCIAL ACTIVITIES. FOR SOMEONE WHO WANTS TO DISAPPEAR, YOU'RE EASIER TO SEE THAN A HIGHBLOOD'S MAKEUP.'" I felt my bloodpumper stop for a moment to only go faster.

"'I SEE YOU AND YOU SEE ME, BUT YOU DON'T EVEN GLANCE MY WAY SO THT I CAN EXPOSE YOU LIKE A TRIPPY PRESIDENT CLUTCHING THE HOT, MISOGYNISTIC BALLS OF HIS LIES. LOOK AT ME NEXT TIME I ASK WHAT BOOK YOU'RE READING-'" I slip another switch to bleep out my name. "'FROM Y/N. PS: CANCER IS THE POISON TO HUMANS, AND THE POISON TO CURE THIS SHITTY WORLD.'" I gasp after reading the last part, my breath basically being held the entire time I read the letter. I know where she lives, only a few houses down from me. 

"THAT'S IT FOR TONIGHT. REMEMBER AS THE GREAT CHRISTIAN SLATE SAID, 'EAT YOUR CEREAL WITH A FORK, DO YOUR HOMEWORK IN THE DARK.' I THINK THAT'S A FITTING QUOTE FOR TONIGHT." I flip the 'on air' sign off and turn everything off. I slide my vans on and jam myself back into a sweater. 

The air was cold, January wind nipping at my cheeks and hands. I run to her house, her window illuminating a rushing silhouette. I knock on her door. No cars in the garage or on the street, no parents. I pant heavily as I heard thumps from going down stairs. "What the fuck are you doing so late-" Y/n's voice got caught. I look at her with intensity. Black lipstick, her symbol on her shirt contrasting to the stark white; black. "YOU SENT THE LETTER." Her eyes looked like stars, not shining from light, but from pure excitement. "You are Deadbeat Red." I nod. "You like me?" I nod once more. She smirked and looped her arms around my neck. I circle her waist with my arms in a second, leaning in when she does, eyes closed and bodies close. 

Fireworks. Heat. Y/n.

What else to describe the girl who agreed on my political views, one who obviously knew how to fight. 

Y/n.

So perfect, she is art, so awe inducing, she is strength.

Y/n L/n, the one who sent the letter.