SWNOVELXO Chapter 2: Chapter 1
"Gulp. Burp. Jesus, lad, how many cans of Monster do you get through in a day?" asked a short-haired teenager, about eighteen, with dark brown and black hair. His tone was equal parts disbelief and exasperation.
Across from him sat Matthew, a pale-skinned teen with medium-length hair parted neatly in the middle, his green eyes dulled by heavy bags beneath them. He was handsome enough, but the constant fatigue etched into his face made him look older than his years.
Matthew shrugged, unbothered by the concern in his friend's voice. "Dunno. Maybe three a day? Would drink more, but I'm skint as it is."
His friends looked gobsmacked. One of them ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. "Three a day? Jesus wept, that's bad enough!" The situation only escalated when Matthew reached into his bag and pulled out a coffee flask, twisting it open casually.
"Matthew, lad, you're speedrunning a heart attack—Jesus Christ!"
The group swarmed him, their voices overlapping in protest as they launched into an impromptu intervention.
"Lads, chill. Seriously," Matthew drawled, holding up a hand to silence them. "Caffeine doesn't even affect me. I had really low iron as a kid—"
"That doesn't mean the dangers don't exist, you absolute eejit!" interrupted the short-haired friend, visibly exasperated. "Why even drink the stuff if it doesn't do anything for you?"
Matthew took a deliberate sip from the flask, raising an eyebrow as if the answer should be obvious. "I like the taste."
The group sweatdropped, exchanging looks of collective resignation. "You're one daft bastard, you know that?" muttered one of them, shaking his head.
Before they could grill him further, the sharp chime of the lunch bell signaled the end of their break. They groaned in unison, reluctantly shrugging on their blazers.
"What've you got next?" Matthew asked as they shuffled toward the hall.
"Library," said the short-haired one, echoed by the others.
Matthew grimaced. "Math."
"Oof. Good luck with Mrs. Harkin, lad," one of them said, clapping him on the back with a sympathetic chuckle. "I don't envy you."
The trio's laughter faded as they parted ways, leaving Matthew to trudge down the crowded hallway with a resigned sigh.
40-Minute Timeskip
"Alright, boys, finish up the equations for homework if you haven't already. I'll mark them tomorrow, and I'll post the weekend's homework online," Mrs. Harkin announced.
Matthew stared blankly at the page in front of him, the first question still untouched. He frowned at the equation, twirling his pen absently in his fingers. "Where does X go?" he muttered to himself. "Ah, I know—he can go fuck himself, that's where he can go."
The end-of-day bell rang, sparing him from further frustration. He stuffed his books into his bag, muttering a quiet "Thank God that's over" as he bolted out of the classroom.
He sent a quick text to his friends, letting them know he'd be heading straight home today. The ever-present fatigue from his low iron levels weighed on him as he trudged through the school's back gates.
Walking through the familiar streets, Matthew pulled out his phone, idly scrolling to distract himself. His friends' earlier warnings about caffeine echoed faintly in his mind. Frowning, he typed "side effects of too much caffeine" into the search bar.
His heart sank as he read the list: heart palpitations, insomnia, anxiety—symptoms he'd mostly brushed off. What really made him pause, though, was the recommended daily dosage: 400 milligrams.
"Let's see…" he muttered, doing some quick mental math. "Five coffees, three Monsters…" His eyes widened. "Shit. That's… over 1300 milligrams?"
Matthew stared at the screen, a mix of disbelief and pride bubbling in his chest. Maybe I'm just built different, he thought smugly, brushing off the concern.
His competitive streak flared to life when he stumbled upon a Reddit post. Someone was boasting about drinking 1800 milligrams in a day.
Matthew's eyes narrowed. "Challenge accepted," he muttered, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
He made a sharp turn, heading toward the corner shop instead of home. If he was going to outdo the internet's self-proclaimed caffeine kings, he needed more Monster.
Here's the expanded and refined version of your scene with the added part, keeping the tone natural and fitting the flow of events while slightly expanding for immersion and realism:
The Challenge Begins
"One, two, three, four…" Matthew counted aloud, lining up cans of white Monster on his cluttered desk. His room was in its usual chaotic state, with school papers, books, and clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor. His bed was unmade, a neglected corner lamp buzzed faintly, and the smell of stale energy drinks and coffee lingered in the air.
He plopped down into his worn desk chair, spinning idly as he grabbed the first can. "Right, some Netflix," he muttered, pulling up Still Game—his personal favorite. He cracked open the first can with a satisfying hiss, taking a long sip before exhaling in pleasure.
"Ahhh, fucking nectar," he muttered to himself, kicking his feet up on the edge of the desk as the familiar banter of Jack and Victor filled the room.
Time passed in a caffeine-fueled blur. By the time he was halfway through the third episode, Matthew had polished off two cans without a second thought. He reached for the third, a grin creeping across his face as he took a sip.
But this time, he wanted to experiment.
"Right," he muttered, grabbing a mug from his desk. He poured himself a strong, dark black coffee, steam rising faintly from the mug. Then, with a mischievous smirk, he cracked open the third can of Monster, pouring it into the coffee like a mad scientist at work.
"Maybe not my brightest idea…" he muttered, eyeing the frothy, questionable mixture. Still, curiosity (and hubris) won out as he took a cautious sip.
Matthew's face scrunched up immediately. "Mmm, not sure that was wise, myself," he said, grimacing. Despite the taste, he took another sip—because quitting was simply not an option.
By the time he finished the fourth can, Matthew's stomach felt like a washing machine mid-spin cycle. He stood up, stretching his arms lazily as the caffeine coursed through his veins. "Food, food…" he muttered, heading toward the kitchen.
But first, nature called.
He made a pit stop at the bathroom, unbuckling his belt and letting loose a strong stream of what could only be described as pure caffeine piss. The sensation of relief made him sigh contentedly.
However, as he leaned down to pull his trousers back up, a sudden sharp pain stabbed through his chest.
"Shit—what's… what's wrong?" he muttered, clutching his chest as panic started to creep in. His breathing grew shallow, and he froze in place, unable to move.
"Is it a stitch?" he whispered, trying to convince himself it was nothing serious. But the pain only worsened, spreading like wildfire through his chest.
Matthew stumbled backward, his legs giving out beneath him as he hit the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. His mind raced, but his body wouldn't respond.
My chest… no, no, no… I'm too young for this…
The realization hit him like a freight train. He was having a heart attack.
A bitter laugh bubbled in his throat as his vision blurred, his thoughts growing foggy. "I'm… fucking simple," he muttered weakly. That was his last thought before his world went dark.