Art Deco - An Evan Peters Fanfiction

Prologue

possible trigger warnings: Mentions of alcohol and the slightest mention of smoking

words: 1540

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[Celeste's POV]

Here I was again, laying on the floor in my small apartment thinking about some of the worlds deepest questions, one's no one fully knew the answer to. I know I may be wasting my time just laying there doing basically nothing , but I find it comforting, just me and a bottle of  bourbon beside me after a long day of living in this hellhole.

Everyday is the same. I wake up, get dressed, grab something for breakfast as I rush out the door to get to the London Underground, when I finally get on the tube I stare at the walls around me and wait until I get to my destination, from there I walk to my job at The National Gallery, then I work there for 6 hours as a tour guide as I talk about the same paintings over and over again. 

After all of that I get back on the tube and make my way back home normally walking into the closest corner shop from my apartment complex and buy myself  a pack of Marlboro's and a bottle of alcohol, from there I walk up to my apartment and unlock the door as I tiredly stumble into my living room, and finally I get a glass from the kitchen and quietly go lay down in the middle of my living room slowly drinking my selected choice of alcohol as I ponder to myself about the worlds unsolved questions.

This cycle repeats over and over again. A never ending loop I've surrendered myself to.

[3rd person POV]

It was a Sunday, the only day Celeste had no plans, no work, and no reason to get up and do something productive. 

When she woke up she found herself in the middle or her living room rug with a mild head ache, during the night she had somehow rolled herself somewhat into the rug to prevent her from becoming too cold. After 5 minutes of just staring at the ceiling contemplating whether or not she should get up and get started with her day, she got up and went to make herself a cup of coffee and grab herself a painkiller. While doing so she went to pick up her phone from the coffee table she left it on the previous night. When she turned it on a few notifications started flowing in, most of them just notifications from her instagram or twitter but that's when one caught her eye. One from her one and only, mother.

Celeste was not close to her family ever since she decided to move away from her hometown to help grow her career in art. Her mother was not pleased to hear her daughter was moving, she tried to plead with celeste to stay and not to leave her. Celeste ended up leaving to London on bad terms with her mother, and soon enough the whole family was against her, messaging her cruel things asking her why'd she left her mother just for a job opportunity.

It did hurt but she just learned to live with it. She knew that if she wanted to make a name for herself she'd have to make some sacrifices. I mean she wasn't all alone, Celeste had met a few people living in London that were just as passionate for art as she was, and soon enough she had made herself a group of friends going through similar situations.

As soon as Celeste saw that her mother had tried to call her multiple times last night she started to stress out, she had completely forgotten about her coffee and instead reached back down to the coffee table to pour herself a glass or bourbon. She took a huge gulp of the golden brown liquid as she set her phone down.