ironic.

Chapter 1 - Emilia

Author's Note: TRIGGER WARNING - This is a very rough story idea that deals with depression, anxiety, and thoughts of suicide. There will be some chapters with adult themes and I only recommend those of age to read. 

- Chapters will change between character POV's so whatever the name of the chapter is, is whose POV you are reading from. Each chapter takes place in different times of their lives, Emilia in the past and Luca in the future. There are layers of different themes and concepts in the writings I put out so I put a lot of effort and thought into these chapters. Do not take anything at face value and feel free to dig deeper into the meaning of things and certain words used. 

- I also have a spotify playlist that I listen to when I write this, so if anyone would like to listen to it I can link it next chapter. I hope you all enjoy :) pls excuse any grammatical or spelling errors for now

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Life had a sick sense of humor, loving the concept of irony. The universe just adores throwing the least expected into your face and laughing as you cry. Astrology, religion, fate, destiny, all a sham. Everything was just a scam. Life had no reasoning to be so mean, and yet it loved to hear the screams of those in pain. It just sits and leaves you helpless, begging for mercy. Life was a sadist. 

Emilia

I never liked leaving my bed. It was my safe space. Where it was okay that everything inside was gray, I could indulge in the numbness that felt so familiar. One emotion I knew all too well was guilt. I always lied to my friends. When they invite me out or ask me to join them on a fun outing I would always lie. I would lie so I could continue my self-loathing in my comforting bed. It's not that I hated myself, but I have never been a fan of myself either. I used to hate the gloomy fog that clouded my mind, I wanted to be like my friends so bad. I wanted the shades of pink and peach and orange that they radiated. Their smiles alone were something I envied, they seemed so natural whereas I had to force mine on a daily basis. Their laughs were musical and could make any heart skip a beat, including mine, but my laugh was a forced chuckle. I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard that my abs hurt. I missed that, or at least I used to miss it. I have gotten so used to the idea of never reaching where I used to be that I became complacent in the numbness. I began to be okay with emotionlessness. I was never happy nor sad, just a consistent gray with hints of blue surrounding mindset. These swirls of gray constantly swam throughout my mind, and for the longest time they were my comfort, my friends, my love, my life.

"Emilia you have to come out with us tonight"

"Oh sorry I have a lot of work to do tonight, can't go out." I responded as I poured myself a bowl of captain crunch

"Oh yeah? What kind of work would that be?" Noel raised an eyebrow as she saw right through my façade

"Catching up on my culinary school applications of course," I smirked back at her. It's not like I was lying. I did need to turn in those damn applications but that was not the reason I did not want to go out with her. I opened the fridge to grab some milk for my cereal, "Who the fuck bought 2% milk?"

"Oh that's Ryan's" Noels pink aura radiated as she mentioned her newest fling

"2%? What is he, a republican?" I gave her the side eye and a questioning smile

"Ha-ha very funny," she rolled her eyes and then they widened, "actually I should probably ask."

"Anyway, I am going to get to work" I took my bowl and headed to my room in our apartment

"Wait!"

I looked back before closing my door, raising an eyebrow.

"You're seriously not coming?"

"Nope" I closed my door, plopped onto my bed and opened my laptop. Might as well do what I said I was going to. Fuck applications.

Every time I would open my laptop and begin some sort of application, whether it be for school or a new job, I would feel my stomach lurch. My heart would race and my insides felt as if they were going to come up my throat. I felt the pressure building as I opened the laptop and began the prompts to the two culinary schools closest to the apartment. I hated answering any questions about myself. Or listing any skills and accomplishments of mine, I always felt like a giant liar when applying to things. Is this really who I am? They are going to see how pathetic I am.