Yanzey Lowplant was a clever young man, talented in all areas besides talking to women. Definitely not the type of man you'd see in action movies, but nonetheless, he was one.
He lived in the year 2028 in America, and after a disappointing high school life with a few friends and no love life, he found himself living at his parents house for six lonely months after graduation.
Yanzey turned nineteen a few months ago, and waking up from another nightly slumber, his eyes immediately took on a happy look.
That was before he realized he was alive.
On his face, there was a complete facial shutdown similar to the likes of Nurgle, the god of despair himself.
Yanzey wasn't bad looking by any means. He could definitely become a famous actor due to his unique features alone, as having a dashingly handsome facial structure is coveted by many in this field.
A natural, banged at his forehead brown mop style was covering his dome. Short but not too much so, just barely covering his ears. He didn't have a beard, or any stubble facial hair at that. He made sure to shave his face daily to keep up a slick appearance.
What really carried his looks was his perfectly sharp jawline and hyoid bone that complimented each other nicely. Along with this, his luscious, wavy straight hair was peerless in its thick volume. Irrefutably, the most significant features on any human face were seamlessly ideal on Yanzey's face.
Since he slept shirtless, his perfectly skinny physique was also seen to the world in all its glory. Given he was five eleven in height, his lanky body type the last two months, he gained thirty pounds from the previous 130 he was at. His flat stomach and weakly defined six pack was the exact medium between skinny and lean. His arms were the same.
Yanzey didn't have any fatal problems on his mug, but he definitely didn't have model-like features. His nose was shaped fine, but it was on the more bigger side, similar to that of greek nose but shaped almost perfectly.
Some would think, since he was gifted by the lookism gods, that he'd be a ladies man.
Every single day, Yanzey would have a recurring thought, that for some reason, never failed to intrude on his mental dominionized, controlled internal monologue.
He was talking to himself, but like, he didn't forge these words.
It's actually a psychological phenomenon known by few as the, "subconscious speaking to you under the reality we all run away from."
For some, it's everyday things, but for Yanzey, it was one singular idea that on the daily, reminded him of his worthless life.
"You so desperately wish for companionship, but then, you can't even hold a conversation when a woman appears." His subconscious told him, contuining on in his own crestfallen truth.
"Yanzey, you're seriously scared of women, and they hate you for it."
Hearing these words, Yanzey got so mad he began cursing the very world he lived in.
This was a daily occurrence.
Using his hands for a quick second to grip his hair from the underside, Yanzey couldn't help but self deprecate. "Fuck you too, god." He paused for a few moments, his gloomy expression spacing off into his bedroom. "This world, hating me until you can't anymore... I really wonder why." He scolded surprisingly to himself, using his skinny arms to push off his bed.
"What, do you want me to kill myself gods? I can do it... what would you do then?" An ominous smile crept across his plain average face as he took on a pushup stance. "I might've not asked to be alive, but I'll refine my body until I can say I did." Switching back to a serious face, it was as if a mission of unprecedented importance had started.
Then, just after those dismal words, Yanzey with perfect form began doing pushups in repeated succession. Back and legs straight, and nose to ground, up again. He had studied on his computer to obtain the ultimate calisthenics form.
"1… 2…"
"30…"
When all else fails and the world betrays you, just spam some pushups.
His breathing at this point got heavy, and once he hit 43 pushups his muscles gave out on him.
"Train till failure and maybe then the gods will pity you." Was Yanzey's motto, and turning over on his back, he laid on his peach carpet.
"Failing on an odd number, how much more pathetic can I be?" He then went on to a variety of workouts. Situps, dumb bell curls, and even the infamous plank.
Holding this plank, it had already been 4 minutes and Yanzey's face was displayed immense excruciating discomfort.
"Ugh… ughh… Why the hell does this hurt more than anything ever?! Please timer, end already. I'm not suited to excel in this field."
Some might wonder, why was this skinny loser trying so badly to develop a better physique despite being an unemployed bum living in his parents house?
Today was his redemption, a day he'd been preparing for since he began these difficult workouts.
College life.
Yanzey graduated high school with a 3.2 grade point average, and while those grades aren't admirable, they were good enough to get into a decent college.
Yanzey's planned major?
He didn't have a clue. He… by his own explanation, is a "Love zombie with no real direction in life."
But he knew one thing about enrolling at a university.
Women were everywhere!
Yanzey's only goal for college was to meet the love of his life. He thought to save the extra nonsense for when he got there.
And he thought, without a perfect lean body, he'd have no chance to not only get a girlfriend, but to also advance bases with her.
"Take your shirt off now, let's see what I'm working with." She'd say, where Yanzey's worst fear was a terrified scream following her leaving.
He'd been working out hardcore, targeting every muscle group for three months now, and the progress was substantial to say the least.
Yanzey's abs were there, all six of them clear as day, but they weren't defined, more like a pancake that was half way done solidifying.
But his arms, defined through months of dumbbell exercises and trips to his local gym, were lean and above average. Still skinny, his biceps and triceps were formed around his slender and lanky genetic makeup.
After finishing his workouts, he then prepared a speech to himself that meant more than any influential figure's words.
"Learning? Pursuing an education so I can better myself?" He laughed to himself, mocking those ideas as he grabbed a towel from his closet.
Opening that bedroom door of his, while in his lion pajama pants, Yanzey declared war on his subconscious. His expression, now indistinguishable from a seasoned warrior, was just as formidable. "All I see are lame jokes. I'm gonna ask out every girl on that campus."
After a faithful shower and the brushing of his teeth, he got dressed and grabbed his all black backpack full of supplies. He wore some jet-black cargo pants and a black long sleeve shirt.
Walking out to his kitchen, his mother, the gracious Ruth greeted him with some homemade lunch.
Her long, wavy banged hair was a perfect brown, and her beautiful face definitely resembled Yanzey's. "Don't forget your lunch mister, your first day of college is today, which means I won't be able to feed you anymore… At least take my famous ham sandwiches one last time before you become a college boy." Her face, trying to be happy for Yanzey's departure, was so clearly failing.
Yanzey was on the verge of tears, watering but not quite falling. Taking on a happy sad expression, he rushed to hug his mother. "I'll visit frequently, don't you worry." Her head at his chest, she was surprised at first, but almost instantly, she wrapped her arms around his back. "Today's your year, I can sense it." She said, the tone in voice changing drastically. "You'll finally stop being a loser who doesn't have a girlfriend." She said, her words transforming from lovable to snarky and mocking, showing a clear change in demeanor.
Annoyed, but the type of bother you love in a person was seen on Yanzey's face. It was as if a dynamic was revealing itself, one that was far from unordinary. "Mom… you really shouldn't say stuff like that to your son."
Ruth's face turned cold and mean, thinking her words were helping. "It's true though. My job as a mother is to make sure you grow to be a happy man, and I've never lied to you. Won't stop now."
"I can't say thanks, what type of man would I be then?" Yanzey thought, trying to let go, as he was kinda put off, but Ruth held him tight to prevent it. "Not yet, just a few more seconds."
He simply smiled and continued to embrace his one and only mother.
Ruth, for Yanzey was the light to his bulb, the vitamin D to his sun. In his lonely world, where he had a total of four fake friends, he knew without Ruth's infinite love, that he'd be far from the man he was today.
He never despised his parents for his flawed natures, because the kindness he obtained from primarily Ruth, was just as strong.
When living in this accursed world where the intelligent humans have called paradise, a mothers love is needed as an essential to formulate said heaven.
To grow and function at an age where the world surrounding a child was observed as a daft confusion, love's necessary power, going beyond the threats of pointless destruction, was needed for the constructions of normalcy.
If gone without such a mental formality, one would begin to love themselves far too much, resulting in an egocentric life where life becomes unjust.
Life can't get any more unfair.
Everyone should have a mother, Yanzey thought at this moment.
Ruth let him go and pushed him away slightly, "Just go already. You better call me once a week, got that?"
"Yeah." Yanzey said, his words a mixture of laughter and love. "See you mom, love you!"
And just like that, he left his house and drove to his university in his old fashioned honda accord.
And after driving for an hour, he finally arrived at the newly built and established university made only a few years ago.
He made his way through the security system and made it on campus.
He simply stared at the giant building before him, the beautiful fall air brushing against his long sleeved shirt like a gentle reminder of winter's inevitable arrival.
Yanzey loved the cold weather, really made him feel alive. So much so, he cheesed a large, joyous smile while saying, "Cheapest tuition and tons of hotties to choose from, talk about a score." Like he'd achieved all his life dreams, he pumped his left fist downward in a celebratory action. While the other students briefly looked at him strangely, it was clear he didn't care.
Yanzey stood, his two arms now on the side as he looked at the scenery of his university.
"Vice University."
It was Yanzey's first college day as a freshman. He was on one mission, and without any friends, he was a forlorn student left to fend for himself.
Lonely he was, there was only one wish he had out of the countless.
"I want to find love."