Chapter 2: A Good Gig

237 6 4
                                    


A/n: SO HERE WE ARE. The chapter I promised would have the IMP peeps and I intend to keep that promise. Also sorry if you don't like the chapters being 3,000 words long because this one is EVEN FUCKING LONGER SOMEHOW, I swear I never intend for them to be this long, it just happens when I get really into it. Also you see that image of the Apartment? That's the layout of yours  except replace that fireplace for a crummy TV and Coffee table and the window is much smaller. it also don't look that bland.

Gonna start putting the word count up here as a warning for how long you going to be here.

Word count: 5,114 FUCKING WORDS WHICH IS 15 PAGES IN MY GOOGLE DOC MY GOD!

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Setting: Apartment 8CP-5771, your reclaimed apartment.

TIme: 4:00am
State: Upset and Drinking
POV: Y/n, 6 years 2 months and 53 minutes after death.

Y/n: 'Fucking hell am I ever tired of that busted AC. Seriously, 6 years, 793 request to the complex to fix it and 231 attempts to fix it myself later and it still won't chill the fuck out. I like the temp sure but the damn thing blows too damn hard. The king of white noise and minor inconveniences.'

I stare down at the drink I've poured myself, drinking at home is cheaper after all and I need to save all the dollars and pinch all the pennies I can. If you told me six years ago to paint a picture of what hell was i'd tell you pitchforks, fire, and torture. Turns out it's actually outrageous rent, low paychecks, and financial anguish. Turns out this place isn't too different from Earth, it's expensive to live in the city and it's ruled over by despotic, rich overlords.

Y/n: "Better make another grocery list, gonna have to cut out all the unnecessary stuff, the chips, ice cream, and everything else I don't need to live but love. *stares at the ceiling* Better look at which bills are most overdue again, need to pay off all the final notices. First warnings can wait."

I grab my drink off the end table and take another sip of it. Gotta savor it, last bit of rum I got. I put it back down and grabbed the newspaper sitting next to me. Newspapers, another thing I wasn't expecting to see in Hell. It's on the "Help Wanted Section", there were about twelve jobs listed in total and ten of them had been crossed out, I crossed out "Lucky" number eleven. I didn't even qualify for the last one, I mean what the fuck is a goofy gadget and why does this wackford guy need em so bad?

Y/n: *massive groan of unemployment* "I've been through all of these already! Not one of them lasted longer than three weeks."

I see why these positions are always open now, the turnover rates are titanic. I groaned again as I stood up, finished my drink and brought it over to the kitchen. I run the glass under the sink for a bit before setting it down. I stumble through my apartment to my room, gliding my fingers across my wall. I look over to my hand and softly smile. This apartment is probably the best thing I have, thank god hostile takeover is an accepted way to get a home.

Flashback: 7 hours after being crushed by a vending machine.

It was fucking disgusting, No wonder that furbag was out for a night on the town. HE LIVED LIKE A PIG! After getting the green light from the door and stepping in, the stench of old take out and flat booze hit my nose like a train. The furniture was falling apart, and the floor was littered with trash, unopened bills, and crusty clothes. As I walked in I saw a light switch and flipped it resulting in only one light bulb flickering on in the living room. I almost wish I hadn't because now I can see the mess is so much worse than I thought. I can see massive stains on the floor, no telling if it's urine, puke or some other gross shit. I walk into the kitchen to see a sink overflowing with dirty dishes, an electric stove covered in muck and grime, some cupboard doors hanging on one hinge, and a fridge wide open revealing an empty carton of beer, a bottle of ketchup, mustard, and some chocolate syrup. I close the fridge shut and step out the kitchen.

Shroom with Broom (Helluva Boss Loona x Male Reader)Where stories live. Discover now