Questionable Choices [Yan!DSMP x Reader]

Chapter 25: Blf ollp zyhlofgvob yvzfgrufo (:

T/W: Mild breaking of boundaries, suicidal behaviour

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"So, God is just reusing his models," you shrug as you stare at the picture of Morgana, who has slowly transformed to look exactly like you. "Or are you telling me I'm some descendant of them?"

"I don't know, Y/N. I'm just trying to show you how history repeats itself. All these other people who look so much like you, have gone through some kind of a similar story." He lets out a sigh and sits on the bench in the middle of the room. "It's weird, isn't it? This Town is without a doubt one of the most mysterious and odd things I've ever seen, and that says quite a lot." There's a lot left for you to say and ask, but there's nothing that comes out of your mouth. All you can do, is stare at the painting. "You'll discover everything one day, I'm sure. Schlatt wouldn't have befriended you had he not thought so."

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

The sound of your alarm clock breaks your eardrums and you almost get a heart attack right away. Panicking and screaming shortly, you sit up right too quickly and turn off your alarm clock before falling off the bed.

Thus you lie on the ground staring at the ceiling, already knowing that the festival today is going to be a dreadful experience that you're either going to regret or going to forget all about.

But what's new?

After letting out a groan and giving yourself a spoon with some self-pity, you stand up and question all your life choices. How come your boring and unsignificant meaningless life has come to the point on which you're allowed to go to a festival full off rich and successful idiots who probably only want to do business there? And what the fuck are you going to be doing there? Other than bore your mind out with Jared as your date.

Which, by the way, was one of the worst ideas ever.

However, you were going to do it anyway.

You open your closet and look over the clothing inside. The festival. Even if you usually don't care about looks all that much, you're only going to stand out more if you look like a disaster in a room filled with neatness.

So, you grab your best-looking suit and put it on. After you look in the mirror, you smile. Damn. Maybe you usually wouldn't admit it, but you actually look hot. Putting your chin in the air, you straighten your back. If anybody is going to insult your appearance today, you're going to kick them in the face and laugh like the villain you are. This one time you feel pretty, nobody will take that away from you.

A meowing Sherlock enters the bathroom when you're brushing your teeth, just as always, asking for attention. And even though his fur is most definitely going to be visible on your suit, you grab him nevertheless, holding him as always. Is it the medication working or are you feeling happy because you're actually looking forward to this day?

But even though this seems to be the one day where you're not feeling shitty, you can't help but feel that something is missing. A desire to get back to the times where you felt so terrible, for a reason you cannot understand.

No, don't think about it today. Today is going to be a good day. Today is going to be a day that you're likely going to regret, but you're going to make the best of it nevertheless.

I mean, look at you. You look amazing! And you are amazing, of course.

You do your hair, wash your face and put your phone in your pocket. You check up on Phukkit as well and after that, look in the mirror one last time.