showerhead

So yeah. Rose Cookies.

This isn’t your usual power fantasy or deep character study. It’s just… something that came out of my brain—and maybe yours too.

Keanu, the guy you’re reading about, isn’t really a person. He doesn’t have a personality, no tragic backstory, no moral compass. He’s just there. Walking, talking, smiling. And then suddenly—violence. Out of nowhere.

Why? Because sometimes, life just pushes people. You keep swallowing the little stuff—awkward silences, fake laughs, getting ignored, getting talked over, being the nice one. Over and over. And then one day, something in you snaps… or at least, wants to.

Not gonna lie, a lot of these scenes are born from real stories. Not the stabbings, obviously, but the feelings. Stuff I’ve gone through. Stuff people have told me. That quiet, helpless frustration when you just sit there thinking, “Why do I keep letting this happen?” And maybe, for a second, your brain throws out the worst possible solution just to see how it feels.

Keanu is that. He’s not a person. He’s an impulse. He’s what happens when all that built-up patience finally tips.

Some chapters will be hilarious. Some will be disturbing. Some will make zero sense. That’s intentional. Life doesn’t stick to genre rules, so neither does this.

Thanks for reading. Or hate-reading. Or doomscrolling (I sincerely doubt that) your way into this mess. I’m writing it like a fever dream and trying to surprise myself, so if it gets weird, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

– Sincerely,
Showerhead

Rose Cookies

Keanu exhaled through his nose, already forcing a smile. He didn't even bother looking up from his bowl of ramen.

Across the table, a guy he barely knew was grinning, clearly pleased with himself. "Dude, are you serious? Your parents actually named you that?"

Keanu twirled his chopsticks. "Nah, I named myself. Woke up one day and thought, man, you know what would make life harder? Sharing a name with a dude who's literally the most beloved guy on Earth."

Laughter rippled around the table. Someone clapped him on the back.

"Nah, bro, it's cool. Your name's a great conversation starter. People love that. Makes you way more interesting."

Keanu slurped his noodles. "Right, because life would be so much easier if every conversation started with woah."

More laughter. The conversation moved on, jumping from gym routines to someone's disastrous Tinder date.

As the night stretched on, people started heading home. Keanu finished his broth, waved off offers to split an Uber, and stepped out into the cool night air.

The streets were quiet. A few distant cars. The hum of streetlights. He took a deep breath, stretching his arms overhead.

Great night. Good food. Chill people. Solid conversation. What more could I ask for?

A man walked a few steps ahead of him. Just a guy.

A clean, effortless movement—sharp steel slicing through flesh. The man collapsed instantly, body hitting the pavement with a dull thud. Blood spread across the sidewalk in uneven streaks.

Man, I should've gotten an extra egg in my ramen. Would've helped me hit my macros.

The streetlights buzzed above him.

"Keanu? Like Keanu Reeves?"