Why does it seem as though nature has decided to set itself to be your own personal alarm clock? The sound of the birds chirping merrily this morning does little to satiate your bloodthirsty mind as you forced your feet from out of the comfort of your warm cozy bed and onto the rough, unforgiving carpet. You then laced your fingers together, raising them above your head into a long stretch. Allowing your blanket to fall off your shoulders and into a crumpled mess above your sheets while your joints make some satisfying pops and snaps when they fall into place. You glance toward your nightstand to the left of it to where your alarm clock usually lay. Its bright red colors seemed to mock you as it read 6:30 am. You internally groan, rubbing your eyes as an attempt to rid the sleep from them.
"...coffee…" You murmured, still beating yourself up for only managing to get about four hours of sleep last night. Rest had never been a problematic creature to catch. She had always been a tame beast, only ever needing some gentle coaxing such as a warm glass of milk and calming music to soothe her. No, the problem was never Sleep herself, for it had been a constant battle amongst yourself, sleep always pleading for you to get off your damn phone to catch those precious Z's. But do you listen? Hardly ever. That's probably why your up at 6:30 in the morning, cursing the sun for taking his daily journey across the sky. You finally take a break from your day to day delusions having met this morning's quota. With dragging feet, you make your way towards the kitchen, the floorboards of your shoddy apartment creaking every step of the way. It wasn't as if you couldn't afford better housing because you damn well knew you could. You see, you came from a decently well off family. Certainly not wealthy, but it had left you little to ask for. It was due to… some unsavory life events that left you a little more than unwilling to touch money you hadn't earned with your own blood sweat and tears. Plus not gonna lie, it felt pretty good to watch those little digits get higher and higher with every passing year. Though it did not come without its consequences: a crappy neighborhood, a crappy apartment, and a crappy car, but all was well because even if everything you own was pretty shitty at the very least, it was all yours.
When you had ultimately made it to the kitchen, warm toes met the cold tile sending a shudder through your spine. Which only helped wake you just that tiny bit more opening the fridge, taking out the eggs and a pack of bacon out, then placing them onto the counter as you head off to the coffee maker to make you a cup of liquid gold. You take a moment to gather the rest of the supplies thumbing your chin as you look down at your precious loot: Two mixing bowls, two flat pans, a whisk, a measuring cup, a pack of bacon, a carton of eggs (only 6 left, need to buy more), a box of pancake mix, a box of strawberries, a bag of gummy bears, a jar of Nutella, a jar of craft glitter, and a jar of sprinkles. Grinning to yourself as you roll up your metaphorical sleeves as you prepare the best breakfast this world has ever seen.
*Thirty minutes later*
"...Well… Now, look at that." You have created yet another beautiful monstrosity right out of your kitchen. Words couldn't describe what your plate looked like other than the actual recreation of what heaven and hell looked like. On one side, it was heavenly, the bacon was cooked perfectly- crisp but not hard with just enough give to be chewy, while the scrambled egg so soft and silky- seasoned to perfection with a nice cup of joe- plenty of cream and sugar on the side. On the other hand, hell was reining its ugly face through the power of pancakes. In kinder terms, they were… horribly unsightly. The strawberries that oozed and bubbled staining bits of the pancake batter to a deep crimson that could only resemble blood; the gummy bears were either a gooey, sloppy mess or the sugars had burnt random sections of the pancakes into black sugary crisps. In what looks like a final stitch effort to save this abomination, Nutella has been spread between its layers. The glitter that had been woven into the mix, giving it an unnatural shimmer, and just to add insult to injury sprinkles generously plopped on top. If you weren't so delusional, you'd see that what you created looked like actual shit. No, it honest to god looked like a plate of diarrhea on the side of your otherwise perfect plate.
"...Looks great, time to dig in!" You exclaimed as hacking out a piece with your fork shoveling it into your mouth without a second thought. The flavor was... peculiar, to say the least, and you were sure you had just swallowed a bit of eggshell. You, however, already use to your abysmal pancake-making skill, had powered through the rest of the somehow burnt yet raw dough with ease. You quickly down some of your coffee, not caring that you had scalded your tongue as you let out a gratifying sigh of relief. Going through the rest of your food was certainly more enjoyable, but you refuse to acknowledge as to why that is. Pulling out the cell, you begin going through your emails from your clients, highlighting some, replying to a few, ignoring others. Working in PR had its ups and downs, but in the end, it was all worth it. Now that you mention it, didn't you have to be at work at 8:00, what time is it now? ... 7:37...
"Shit!" Sprinting to your closet, you throw on one of your cute long sleeve turtle necks in your favorite color with a casual suit jacket to match. You slap on some of your best slacks, grabbed your files, and rush out your crummy apartment and to your even crummier car as you put the pedal to the metal. As much as your legally allowed to without getting arrested, follow the road safety laws at home kids. Once you made it to your agency's doorstep, you rush passed Rebecca, the secretary.
"Why is it that you always rushin' in here like that, Sugar? You better off setting' an alarm." She called after you, her sweet southern drawl soothing your frazzled self, allowing you to giggle at her playful jab.
"Don't lie, Becca, you love to see me go." You shot back, sending a little flirtatious wink her way. Rebecca was quick to roll her lovely cocoa-colored eyes while she pulled a few locks of her wavy gray hair behind her ear. She waves you off, sending you off with an overtly bored gaze.
"I sure do, now run along. Go on, Get. Ya really gonna be late now if ya keep messin’ around like that." Her sarcastic tone, though at first glance, seems harsh, is secretly full of mirth. You blow the older woman one last kiss as you rush down the corridor, having to stifle more giggles when you hear exaggerated gagging emitting from the room prior. Rebecca was one of the few people who could hold onto the fragile pieces of your shattered heart. You could remember back when you first started working at this facility, and how you would try to sneak pass her so you wouldn't have to greet her every morning. How arrogant of you to assume that Mrs. Rebecca C. Feleg, would ever let that shit slide. The memory of her calling over you gently like the slow pouring of warm caramel over a hot fudge sundae, thick and sweet, and far too good to resist.
*Three Years Ago*
"C'mon over here you, I ain't gonna bite yer Lil' head off." That receptionist was calling out to you again; for weeks, you had been able to fly under her radar, and your life had remained reasonably kosher. Well, minus the fact that everyone avoided you like the fucking plague. That suited you just fine though, fewer people to irritate you, I guess. That being said, you hadn’t a clue as to what her sudden interest with you was. Right Out of left field, she just started greeting you, taking a crack at engaging you in small talk that always felt a little stiff. You tried your best to elude her, but this woman was far too tenacious. Plus, there was so much you can do when the person your fleeing is stationed at the single entrance and exit. It was the third time this week she had caught you unawares. You've been able to dodge her the first time by pretending you’d gotten a phone call, while the second, you straight up acted like you lost your goddamn hearing and walked away. Now, it wasn’t like you hated her, hell you don't even KNOW her… and I guess that's the problem… Meeting new people is hard, and you're just sick of people getting all weird when you try to explain to them why it was not okay to be all touchy on your person.
Funny how quick they are to scatter when people find out you got baggage. Ready to brush you off as if they had deemed you too much of a burden to be dealt with. You huffed to yourself seething at the thought, feeling the bitterness sour at the tip of your tongue. All you needed was some time to get used to being around them. To simply ask if it was okay, or at the very least give you some warning before touching you. Was that so much to ask? Apparently, with the number of people you had to consistently correct. 'I mean, I'm sorry Karen, I do not want a hug, and just because you were being kind and giving me basic human decency does not dictate when you are allowed to grope me. Just cause you gave me food that one time does not mean I'm magically healed from all of my mental trauma and will have suddenly warmed up to you like a goddamn animal. I am a fucking human being, thank you very much.' You exhale slowly through your nose. 'Might as well get this over with, rip it off like a bandaid and move on.' You turned and marched right up to her desk, a professional smile spread across your subtle features.
"Mrs. Feleg, so what do I owe the pleasure." You inquire pleasantly, adding a rueful bow towards her. That earned you a grin and a look of approval, which you chalked up as a win.
"Oh, nothin' much… just wonderin' why you've been givin’ me the slip for the past few weeks." DAMN. You didn't expect to be called out so soon. You were helpless to prevent the full-body cringe you did, which only bolstered her assumption. You try to cover it with an unconvincing chuckle while rubbing the back of your neck guiltily. "And 'bout ere' body else? Don't think I ain't notice that too. I may be an old bird, but I ain't a blind one yet."
"Mrs. Feleg, I would neve-..."
"Ah, ah, ah. Sugar, I've been on this earth long enough ta know when people are goin' atta their way ta avoid each other. I'm definitely guilty of doin' it a few times m' self. Now, tell me, what's the matter?" She urges you warmly. Looking like she's ready to accept a bomb if you decided to drop it, and who were you to disappoint her? You chose to give it to her straight, and merely snatch that imaginary bandaid by the balls to show it who's boss. You tell her about your fear of touch, and you avoided her because you didn't want things to get awkward. You spent the next ten minutes pouring your heart out to this woman, not really diving into the reasons you are afraid of touch, but your experiences with people due to it. You can already see where this train wreck is heading, already preparing what you'll need as a 'pick me up' afterward. Just because you were ready for rejection did not mean it hurt any less. What you weren't prepared for was the delicate smile that warmed her wrinkled cheeks as waves of pity…? No, empathy. Had poured out of her like a hefty downpour after years of drought. She told you she knew what it was like, with her husband suffering from his own mental health issues. She relayed to you how his whole world view had changed. That even she had been going through the wringer herself. You’ll continue to deny that this ever happened, but that day you had broken down into a sniveling mess right in front of her. Relieved, that someone could be so sweet, so understanding, so kind that it had touched you to your very core .
You bristled happily at the tripped down memory lane, skipping down the hall to the employee resting area. You clock in 1 minute after you were supposed to, fist-pumping into the air as you do a little dance as you praised yourself for your very questionable driving skills. You skip over to your desk, placing your files on top after a brief login into your work computer. You start your day by first checking your calendar for any releases or events venues for the day. When confirming you hadn't, in the meantime, had spent your time writing speeches for clients, reviewing their company blogs for critical questions, forming responses to them, and repeat. Continuing that pattern until about 10:30, whereas you are open to accepting calls from journalists. Some reach out to ask for an interview, others you had to personally check in to confirm the meeting. Most of the journalists you knew well, as well as being happy to be able to maintain a long and healthy business relationship with them. Unfortunately for others, they wanted to get in on some gossip through you about a few select clients. Those were the kind of calls you dreaded the most about your type of work. Now that you mention, weren't you in one of those calls right now?
"-aven't you ever believe Dr. William Lemessurier to be a leecher, has he ever made a move on you, Miss-.." The man seemed to be willing to ramble on before you quickly cut him off, not giving him a chance to complete the thought.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Mr... What was your name again? Oh, that's right, Mr. Griggs, is it? I would like to first inform you that if you continue this line of questioning, I would have no choice but to withdraw from the conversation. If that is all you have to say, then I'll have no further comment." Mr. Griggs tries to cut in, but you talk over him, not finished speaking.
"As you know, I am a very busy woman and have many important tasks I must be getting to, so unless you have any relevant questions about Mr. William Lemessurier's work or company , then I believe this conversation is over." You wait for a beat of silence before giving and 'understanding' hum before continuing, "Then thank you for your time. Have a lovely rest of your day." Dropping the line, you recline deeply into the chair as you glare at the ceiling, debating whose eyes you want to claw out more, yours, or that stupid reporter. As you were questioning whether life was worth living anymore, you heard a soft knock at the side of your cubicle, interrupting you in the middle of your current life crisis.
"Setting some more nosy reporters running yet again, Honey?" Asked a voice, you were all too familiar with and deeply loved. You let out an excited squeal as you spun right out of your seat as you bolted into the arms of your best friend, Emma. She catches you with ease her, her thick form enough to handle the sudden addition of your weight. Plus, it helps that she was already quite used to your... spontaneous behavior. Emma was a beautiful African American woman, her form was full in every sense of the word, and in all the right places. You glanced up at her face and smiled to yourself, 'Flawless as always, I see.' As much as she would deny her god-given gift for make-up, she would always be glowing to the point she could put even Beyonce to shame. JK, no one can beat the queen, but she was definitely a close second. You would have thought she was a model instead of one of the head journalists working for the well renowned Washington Post. You loved Em, she's been your long-time best friend since like diapers rightfully earning the vacant position of the protective older sister. She has really been your rock throughout the majority of your life. Going as far as hell and back with you when you had been trapped inside the most agonizing few years of your entire life. The moments in which you were sure you were alone and wished for nothing but the sweet release of death, she was there to remind you that life was worth fighting for. Ever since then, she was determined to stick by your side, never once allowing her resolve to falter. You used to wonder every day what in the everlasting fuck had you done to deserve such a beautiful human being, but now that you had her nothing on this earthly plain could tear her away from you. At least, not without a fight. You two were as thick as thieves, and you damn well couldn’t picture a life without her.
She giggled against you, and you can't help yourself but join her. She gave you a little squeeze as to hint to set her free, but instead, you fall limp in her grasp, causing her to let out a considerable huff of breath as she was forced to support you entirely. "Stand up, you jackass, or I'll drop you!" She whined as she rocked you gently from side to side. You groaned against her as you gave her a pitiful look.
"I can not! Can't you see that I have fallen for you!?" She gave you a long unamused stare before promptly dropping you onto the floor. You fall onto your knees as you grip your sides falling into hysterics unable to handle the fact that the bitch actually dropped you. Emma, however, had folded her arms as she forced herself to look unmoved as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ Though she tried her best, her features betrayed her as her lips twitched with restrained laughter.
"You're too much, ain't we supposed to be eaten lunch, or are ya gonna continue to die on the floor, Honeypot?" You cover your mouth as you sit up, while she offers her hand to help you up in which you gleefully take.
"Lunch, please!" You exclaim, packing up your things a little before following your friend out of the building. You two were given some odd glances because of your little scene, but you both ignored them. You weren't going to let a few judgemental stares ruin your day. Chatting away as you both head to your favorite cafe. Your eyes unconsciously start to scan the walkway, quick to notice how full it was. Your eyes widen slightly as you force yourself to swallow the lump ever-growing at the center of your throat. You couldn't help but be hyper-aware of how many people had started populating the boardwalk, making you feel swamped in. You pull your long sleeves down over your hands as you begin to walk just a half a beat slower so you’d be tucked a bit behind Emma, hence averting from any accidental bumping into people. ‘It’s gonna be fine, Y/n. Just don’t think about it, you’re covered up for a reason.’ Reciting that to yourself had done little to calm your nerves but reassured you enough that if anyone did touch you, at least it would not be directly. You were fine this morning because of your haste, but now that you were with Em with nothing to distract you, you can't stop yourself from being conscious of it. You try to hide your growing discomfort, not wanting to dampen the chill atmosphere the two of you had going. However, Em had always been able to read you like a damn book.
The moment your pace had changed, the corners of her eyes were shifted to you, taking note of your pitiful attempt to appear serene. Emma being the angel that she was, was quick to move into a more dominant position in front of you, giving a death stare to anyone who dare take even half a step too close. Her glare was enough to intimidate any passersby, and if they weren’t paying attention, she had no qualms about ‘guiding,’ aka shoving them out of the way. Easy to say that after Emma went all Mama bird to clear the walkway, both of you were able to walk in relative peace. You grab her hand, giving it a soft squeeze in a silent thank you while Emma gripped yours back as if to say your welcome. You guys finally reach the cafe, entering, you head to your designated booth (last one in the back close to the back exit) while she headed to the counter to place your orders. She comes back with a broad smile as she slides you your food. You both catch up for a bit, discussing how the others' weekend went before the conversation fell into a natural lull. You were ready to enjoy the peaceful silence before she gave you a look, and you just knew she wants to talk about that again. You sink into your seat, groaning loudly, sipping your drink, refusing to make eye contact with her.
"Honey..." She called to you softly, adding a little sweetness to her tone as she called you by your pet name. You drag your eyes back to her, your pout softening at her gentle expression. "I know you hate talking about it, but... you still not over the whole, touching thing, are you?" You grunt in affirmation, rolling your eyes, the paint on the walls suddenly becoming the most exciting thing in the whole damn world.
"It's not so bad when I'm all wrapped up... I'm getting a latte better though, I'm fine with touching you, aren't I?" You retorted lamely drumming one hand on the table while the other was scrunching the sides of your mug before adding, “I’m not kid-tea-ing , Em. I don’t even wear my gloves unless I’m with new clients, I’m not depresso anymore either.” You deflected. Using humor in hopes, she would just drop the topic, knowing deep down that she won’t until Em gets the answers that she wants. As much as you love Em, that was something that had always bugged you, and she knew it. Your eyes search hers and sigh when you realize that your attempt to diverge the conversation fell on deaf ears. ‘So it’s gonna be one of those talks… great.’ You thought as you slumped further in your seat, wishing to be literally anywhere else.
"Yeah, only me and a few others." She was quick to shoot back as she reached across the table to hold the hand that was still wrapped around the cup. You felt your jaw clench shut after that. Gritting your teeth slightly as if someone were rubbing salt into an open wound. So what if that were true, that was a hell of a lot of progress ! That was more than anyone could ever ask of you. She had no right to ask you for more than that. No one had the right to ask you for more than that. They weren’t entitled to your body. It was yours. They did not own you. He does not own you. Your cheeks felt hot, as if the very blood beneath them was boiling. "You gotta get over this, Honeypot. I’m worried about ya." Get over it, she says, like it's that simple, how can I just get over it? “It’s been three years alrea-” That was the final straw, you snapped. Your eyes glared intensely into hers, as you yanked your hands back, placing them over your chest as if she had burned you.
"You think I don't know that, Em? You think I like being a human-size fucking ball of anxiety? Do you think I have fun going outside, afraid someone will so much as tap my goddamn shoulder to trigger my next panic attack? I, more than anyone, want to be better already. Of course, I want to be fucking over it!" You fumed at her, unable to hold back the venom in your voice, but the hurt in her face was enough for you to feel regret as you were quick to amend your tone. Clearing your throat, glad the cafe was empty at the moment as you send her an apologetic look her way before resuming, "I'm trying Em, I really am. It's just so hard..." You mumbled, your hand finding your drink again, gripping it tightly. "To not be afraid...I’m sorry about blowing my top , I just get so steamed up, and I just boil over. You know." The air remained a bit strained until Emma broke the awkwardness with a weak chuckle as she got out of her booth and into yours, wrapping her body around you, engulfing you. You relaxed against her, accepted the affection by laying your head against her chest, drinking in the much-needed comfort after that emotional outburst you just had. Taking a deep breath. Calming, even more, when she pulls you even closer. You hum melting into the embrace, both of you taking in the calming atmosphere of the cafe. The smell of grounded coffee beans alongside its fated partner freshly baked pastries wafted through the air, giving you some sense of stability.
"I know… I-I'm sorry, hun, I just worry about you is all." She sighed. "I'm not trying to rush ya, honey. It just eats me up inside knowing my BFF is sufferin' all the damn time, especially when I'm not there to help ya out, you know?" She whispered, her voice a little muffled by the top of your head.
"I know Em, and I appreciate it. I really do, I just... need more time." She nodded, clenching you tightly before reluctantly releasing. She gave you a quick once over searching your face for a brief moment; a mischievous smirk tugged on her lips. Your expression falls into a look a realization, but it was far too late. She had captured your cheeks into her pitching claws.
"Fwee meh, peezshent!" Translation, 'Free me, peasant!' You whined, playfully pounding her chest with your palms. She snickered, raising her hands up in mock surrender.
"Ya wish is my command, ya highness." You eye her suspiciously as she continues to give you that look before finally relenting with a shrug, getting up out of the booth as she folded her hands behind her neck, rocking on her heels. "Well, I think I better head-on. I know they'll start missing me 'bout now."
"I wouldn't doubt that. I know I do, and you haven't even left yet." You said, standing, taking your time to gather the trash into your arms. You both exit the establishment as Em walked you back, not hearing any type of protests. Emma headed back to work, telling you to call her once you got home before dashing off herself. With both of you working, you both tried to meet up at least once a week if you can, however, since Em was going on a business trip next week, it was going to be a while before you'll be seeing each other again. You past Rebecca blowing her a kiss as she pretended to ignore you. You head to your desk ready to complete the rest of your workday in relative peace, or at least that was the plan.
"Hey, Y/n, where'd you run off to?" You heard your name uttered by a masculine voice and suppressed a shudder as you swiveled in your chair to face the daily nuisance, David. He also worked PR, and was damn good at it to, he had such a presence it could make anyone jealous. Unfortunately, that lead him to be a cocky asshole.
"Can I help you, Mr. Hogens?" Acknowledging him with minimal interest to discourage conversation. He, in spite of taking the hint, took it with strive.
"Awww don't be like that Y/n, no need to be so formal. Come on, just let me take you out just once. We're friends, aren't we? I promise it'll be a night you'll remember." He boasted while giving you a vulgar look, a hungry gazed heavy in his lidded ash-colored eyes. Running his hand through his hair, trying way too hard to be suave. You inwardly gag as you sent him a smile that said, 'If I weren't at work and if you weren't my coworker, I would not be so cordial.'
"Ah yes, a night filled with bad decisions and full of regret. Mhmm, as much as I would love to waste my time, admittedly, to do the walk of shame the morning of, I must woefully decline." You denied folding your arms across your chest with a deadpan stare. Okay, maybe not so cordial. His expression goes flat as you both continued to stare at each other until... You both burst into laughter.
"You sassy little beast, Y/n! I can't stand you." He cackled leaning against your cubicle, unable to hold his own weight anymore. You hide your face into your hands as you try to keep your volume low. "You know I'm gonna drag you to one of these office parties one of these days, I won't give up!" He exclaimed, one hand grasping at his chest while the other was fist-shaking towards the sky. You roll your eyes, allowing yourself to relax and give the goofball a warm smile.
"I'll go on of these days..." You shrug noncommittally with a stupidly huge grin. David sent a teasing glare, placing his hands on his hips, looking down at you from his nose.
"Yeah, Yeah. Like I haven't heard that before." You giggled and turned back to your computer and resumed work.
"Don't you have work to do, David?" He cried out behind you, not approving of the shift of your attention.
"Y/nnnn... play with me!" He whimpered, snapping his fingers at the sides of your chair, registering the signal to lean off the back of the seat so he could grab it. When he does, he starts rattling the shit out of it, but you do your best to ignore it by doing work. You couldn't be mad, though, especially when he always went through such lengths to ensure you felt comfortable and safe whilst helping you maintain a social life at work. I guess I've got Becca to thank for that.’ A sweet hum of nonchalance radiates from you as you continued to neglect him. Meanwhile, the emergence of yet another memory had begun to resurface.
After opening up to the designated mother-figure of the company, people were more keen on being welcoming towards you, but in the end, it was really the kid named David who would become an avid member in the quest to befriend you. You have to admit that you were a little intimidated at first, and because of that, you lashed out in the only way you knew how. With tons of sass and attitude. You had gotten so good at it that you almost felt sorry for the poor boy. You had not, under any circumstances, ever thought a person could be hit with so much rejection in one day and still be able to bounce back as quickly as he had. You even start to question if he had a bit of a masochistic streak in him and did it to get off. It quickly turned into a little game of cat and mouse, whereas you’d try to hide and avoid him only for him to, evidently, find you. ‘Coincidently’ running into you. Greeting you with a wry grin saying something amongst the lines of ‘Oh fancy running into you here, I too, happened to also be taking a long stroll outside and ended up, behind the facility building, on the far side of the gate, underneath the brush where literally not a soul goes to except for you, to catch some Z’s. But since I’m here, let me ramble on needlessly about my day. Oh, would you look at that lunch is over. Let me accompany you to your desk. Okay, bye then, have a great day, best friend.’ Shit had continued like that for over a month until one day, you had enough and asked him what the fucks his deal.
“Oh nothing, just want to make you my next BFFL- best friend for life. Is all.” He said as he knocked the side of his head with his fist as it were obviously his only intention.
“Hop off my dick, you know that’s not true, so tell me exactly what it is you want.” You had had it up to here with his ‘buddy-buddy’ bullshit and just want to get to the point where he’ll leave you the hell alone. He’d just laughed though, insisting that all he wanted was to be your friend, but you just screamed, losing the last shred of patience you had. Called him, and I quote, ‘motherfucking shit-faced liar,’ and if he didn’t get out of your face, he would no longer have one. During the entirety of your tirade, never had he once interrupted you nor had he retaliated. He just stood there and took it. When you were done, and out of breath, he simply smiled and asked if you felt better. You told him to fuck off, he, for the first time in weeks, had listened. He left, and you immediately felt like such an ass. You waited for about half an hour before you go out to look for him. As mad as you were, it was wrong of you to take your frustration out on him like that. Even if he was a big phony, it doesn't make what you did okay. You heard around the office that he was in the break room, and you hear two female voices chatting with him. You’re about to walk in until you realize their conversation was about you.
“She didn’t have to yell at you like that!” The girl with the red lipstick cried.
“Yeah, like who does she think she is? Acting all high and mighty, someone should bring that girl back down to earth.” Added the girl with an orange wristband that read ‘girl power’ in tiny neon green letters.
“I know, right? She’s not even that cute, I wonder why you try at all, Davy. Your just wasting your time on a lost cause.” Chimed in the other as the two share a haughty giggle. Your heart clenched as a soft tremor had spread throughout your body as you try your best to hold in your tears. You knew it. You fucking knew it, and it hurt like hell to be right all along. All this time, he was going behind your back to talk shit about you to your coworkers. Probably crying about how the big bad wolf had hurt his feelings every time you rejected him. Yeah, that's it. He was using all this time to garner sympathy from everyone… ouch. You know it’s kinda hypocritical, but deep down, you were… secretly hoping you were wrong. You balled your fist, ready to storm off before you heard a line you’d never forget.
“You bitches are hella jealous, aren’t you? Gross, if you wanted to get in my pants, all you had to do was ask. No need to get nasty, rejected!” He Blurted out, crossing his arms across his chest like a referee calling an out. The girls had squeaked in offense sounding just like fucking rats, and you didn’t stop the snorting that consumed you. David turns to face you, glowing when his gaze finally catches yours. He bounded over to you, greeting you warmly as if you hadn’t just told him to eat literal shit all of but thirty minutes ago.
The girls are red in the face with both rage and utter embarrassment as they stomp off, but not before clown girl turned shouting, “You two deserve each other!” David just smirked as he turned to you with a wink.
“She’s right, you know, so what do you say? Partners in crime?” He said as he took a step back, holding his hand out to you. You stare at it blankly for a moment before realizing this is the first time he has ever made an attempt to touch you. All this time, you had done nothing but push him away when all he had ever done was respect you. Never once pushing you past your limits until this very moment. You peek up to meet his eyes. They tried to remain steady but were quivering in hesitation, and that's when it hit you. He didn’t forget the argument from before, it was still prevalent in his eyes. You wonder what would happen if you rejected him now, would it all be over? Is that why he was now giving you a choice to reach out for his friendship? Leaving it all up to you if you want to pursue this relationship. You were yet again, rendered to tears that you'll continue to deny, had ever happened. You reached out your gloved hand to him as you lightly pat the palm of his hand before retreating.
“Yes, it’ll be fun wreaking havoc with you… Partner.” One step at a time… One day you’ll surely be able to grasp his hand wholly. He had at least proven himself worthy of trying, at least.
You chuckle softly, coming back into reality. "F-first of al-ll, E-ewww. Sec-second of all, n-ooo!" You grab a pen from your desk and carefully threw it at him. He dodges it, clumsily backing away cautiously a smirk pasted on his cheeks as he sent you a sensual wink.
"Such a filthy mind Y/n, my implications were wholesome!" You narrow your eyes before threatening him with the wagering of another pen. "Oh no, she's armed! Tactical retreat! But Seriously Y/n, come hang with us sometime, Viv and Mia miss you." He mused as he sauntered away, exaggerating the movement of his hips all the way back to his desk.
"Yeah, Yeah. Get back to work." You turned back around, giggling, getting back to some actual work. You finished up at 5:30, finally about to head home to get some well deserved 'me time.' You head outbidding all your coworkers farewell, some returning the full, others giving a small affirmation of acknowledgment. Getting into your favorite piece of shit, You mean, your most beloved car peeling off (legally of course), and thanked the lord you made it back in one piece. Entering your apartment, you dump all you crap onto the table next to the door deeming that it will be a problem the Y/n of tomorrow will deal with. You head down the hall to the living room and flop on the couch unceremoniously. Plugged in your phone as you plop your ass firmly into your sofa, clicking on the T.v, surfing through the channels, not really sure what you were looking for.
You settle for some random news outlet, not caring to watch, just needing to drown out any oncoming thoughts with background noise. A futile attempt seeing as your mind seemed to wonder anyway.
You thought about what you wanted to make for dinner IF you wanted to make dinner. You thought about how you’ll tackle work tomorrow. How you'll make breakfast. What you’ll have for lunch tomorrow. Who you’ll meet, you did see you had three appointments the next day. Have to remember to bring your gloves that day cause you are positive you’ll be doing a lot of handshaking. Though you didn’t like it, It was manageable. Thoughts of where you'll be doing in a few days from now, then to a couple weeks to a couple months to a couple years and so forth. You rolled onto your side as you admire one of the news anchor's faces, not really registering a word they said. Life was going pretty well for you. You’ve got a rewarding job that you love. Surrounded by the most caring coworkers who make you feel like you're worth a damn. A best friend who loves you and makes it a point to check up on you regularly. Okay, that's a little annoying, but I know she means well. Even your mental health was improving, albeit at a snail's pace, but an improvement nonetheless. Granted, you still lived in some pretty shitty conditions, but that was out of choice, not out of necessity. You had everything you could ever possibly need, you should be happy. Emphasis on should, so why aren’t you? It wasn’t like you were sad, no, it was something else… this shit was far more profound than just sadness. It was if you were missing a part of you. A piece of a puzzle as if the center of your being was screaming at you for a change . What that change maybe, you had no damn idea. You had just possessed this neverending sense of foreboding for as long as you can remember, and you couldn’t figure why. You, at one point, believed the missing piece was you, so you set out to ‘find yourself.’ Taking that idea and running with it by changing through your appearance. You end up testing so many different styles and aesthetics, for them all to fall short. None of them had ever stuck. Yup, just wasted a butt-ton of time, effort, and money for me to still feel like rat doochie at the end of the day. I’ll never forget eating shit the first time I wore those damn platforms. You sigh heavily while your hand tugged at the end of your hair with a skeptical look. Maybe the universe is telling me to dye my hair again? Ehehe, Nah. You decide to drop the topic before you got any ideas, picking up the remote so you can actually watch the T.V.
You were one click away from changing the channel when it happened.
“Breaking news : Strange creatures have been spotted at the entrance of Mt. Ebott-” ‘What the fuck? Is this some kinda comedy News show?’ Finally, tuning into the on-screen discussion. You thought to yourself as you groaned loudly. You hate when shows pretend to be legit, only to pull your leg at the end. You’ll never forget the time discovery planet had a special on mermaids, and how they had gotten the hand on ‘real-life’ footage of a mermaid on camera. It ended up being a hoax with them revealing at the end, it was just a computer simulation. It was really annoying, especially when you had to tell the people who didn’t watch the end credits that it was a hoax. Claiming that, ‘I know what I saw, mermaids exist!’ No Chad. No they fucking don’t. You smashed the channel button grumbly only to get another news channel that continues the other’s story. Only this time, they were shooting live footage from a helicopter. “Creatures have been seen huddled together at the base of Mt. Ebbot.” The cameraman shifts from the reporter down to the landscape. It had been hard to see because the branches of the trees kept getting in the way. You don’t see anything for a long time as the crew tries to focus the lens.
“Mhmm yeah, you know what I see? A whole lot of no-...” There it was. The beast had pitch-black hair alongside a beard that was woven into each other. Their red pupils were narrowed as it’s red cape, decorated with golden pauldrons that were used to cover the dangerous armor beneath, but was poorly hidden because of the wind from the helicopter kept blowing it up. His horns (assuming that they’re male) are identical to that of a bull's, except instead of being curly, his horns are pointed up. Right next to them was another who had a look similar and yet so different-feminine, in fact. The robe seemed black until the light of the helicopter shifted, and it then gave off a blood-stained hue, fraying out at the bottom. Her eyes are wide open and yellow, with her irises being a bright red color, giving her a look of utter exhaustion. The two of them stood side by side as a small child stood between them, holding a flower pot with a single bright yellow daisy popping out. All three of them stood tall and proud, fiercely guarding what was behind them. What were they protecting, you might ask? It may have been the hordes of creatures, of other monsters , they had rallied behind them. You’re mind refused to believe what you were seeing, you shuffle through news channels again and again, but they were all showing you the same damn thing. Even CNN and Fox News had coverage on the event. This shit was real.
“-fuckin shit!?” You blurted. Leaping off the couch, which in turn caused the remote to skid across the living room and slick beneath your very well used armchair. Your heartbeat rang harshly in your ears as it began to pick up the pace, bounding faster and faster as your palms began sweating profusely. You don’t know how long you had been standing there staring blankly at the broadcast. You were trying to digest the revelation before your knees had given out from under you. The newscast had left you so captivated that you crawled artlessly on all fours until your nose was practically pressed up against the screen. Now that you had a front-row seat, you began to take in their details. These creatures had looked, well… a little roughed up if you were entirely honest. Most of them had scars littered on their bodies as well as their clothes had been tattered up. To be frank, they looked as though they took a brief stroll through the Devil's domain, raising hell as they moseyed along. Your critic-eye had caught glimpses of all sorts of mythical beasts, tons of them looked straight out of a Fantasy Novel. Some looked as if they were made of pure fire; another looked like a stereotypical sheet over the head ghost; one look like a giant fish woman with a stout lizard person clutched to her feet.
‘I knew lizard people were real! THEORY CONFIRMED!... Okay, maybe not the time Y/n… not the time.’ You train yourself to focus again as your eyes searched and searched the crowd, not really sure why you were looking so hard. As if your very soul needed this. I need to find it. Need to find them- ... Then there it is. You choked on air as your breath was caught in your throat when you spotted those two skeletal like creatures standing side by side. The pure power the two radiated was overwhelming, and every instinct in your body told you they were bad news, but at the same time, there was something so bewitching about them as they demanded all of your attention. The way the shorter of the two seems to be relaxed or appear to be so… Their hands were stuffed in the pockets of its black jacket with the golden fur-lined hood and dingy brass zipper, a wine-colored turtleneck underneath the sweater having a spiked studded collar under where the neck would be. They also had a pair of black basketball shorts with a yellow striped going down the side along with a matching pair of red and yellow sneakers. The skeleton had what looked like a lethargic smile spread over his teeth, a golden tooth being one of the most striking things on its face. Well, other than its’ eye sockets were void of anything other than two large round scarlet-colored lights that seemed to be a replacement for actual eyes. He had a kind of unbothered aura as if the helicopter above them occurred on the daily; however, something at the pit of your stomach told you that air of at ease was not natural. Yeah, as if you let that fool you because if you were to take a closer look, you noticed how his clothes look relatively untouched compared to the rest of the monsters , you call them. Maybe there was more to that what can be seen on the surface, or at least that’s what you’ll believe for now. The former, however, was in complete contrast with the other skeleton. This skeletal figure for one towered over the other, well towering most of the other monsters actually. Its body was rigid and looked straight up confrontational. Their glare seems to penetrate through the screen that towards you that you had to lean away. The monster looked as though he rolled right out of hot topic and did so confidently. He appeared to have some sort of black battle body that would come up above his spine as if they were wearing a crop top with spiked out shoulder pads. They had a pair of low cut skinny jeans that were held up with a showy crimson belt with a glinting gold buckle. To give the finishing touches to their outfit, they had a ruby-colored: knee-high boots, long elbow high gloves, and waist-long scarf that was the only thing on their person that was battered up.
Your gaze was fixated on the two until the anchor reappears, giving feedback on the situation. Seizing the opportunity of this brief moment of awareness, you sprint to your phone to text Emma and tell her you needed her to come over, like, right now. You could not be alone at the moment, not with all this new information swarming your mind. You glance at the back toward the living room as your hand running through your hair.
This was not something that could blow over in a week, no. This was going to change everything, it would have to. The world, as you know it was changing , and you don't know if you were ready for it. No, that’s a lie. You somehow, deep down, always knew that maybe this was the change you had always wished for. The image of those two skeleton flashed across your mind once more, unable to shake the feeling the two gave you. The way That maybe this was what you were waiting for, for the world to turn upside down .
You didn’t know-how, and you didn’t know why, but all you knew was that the very core of your being was calling out for you to do something , and you hadn’t a clue as to what. Though something in you was telling you that you were going to find out, and very soon.