As I opened my eyes, I felt a heavy sense of unease wash over me. My bubblegum pink bedding was a stark contrast to the dark band posters that littered the walls of my room. I turned to look at the large TV in the corner, which was still playing, its glow casting an eerie light across the room. I knew that my parents would be angry with me for leaving it on all night, but I couldn't find the energy to get up and turn it off.
Eventually, I forced myself to rise from bed and put on "Blame It on the Boogie" by The Jackson 5 in my cassette player, turning the volume down so as not to wake my parents at such an early hour. I had an appointment to look at a flat on the outskirts of London at 8 am, so I needed to be up early.
As I brushed my long, silky silver hair that reached just below my waist, I realized that I needed to cut it soon. I was no longer a little boy and it was time for a change. My stark blue eyes looked back at me in the mirror, reflecting a deep sense of longing and restlessness.
I felt trapped and suffocated by the sameness of everything. My parents' house was a never-ending cycle of routine and predictability, and I knew that I needed to break free. That's why I had decided to move out of the Nikiforov household and find my own place.
After brushing my teeth with bubblegum toothpaste, I applied light mascara to my platinum eyelashes, using the black paint to bring them out. I knew that my appearance was striking - my pale skin and silver hair made me stand out in a crowd - but it was a part of who I was.
I'll confess, I have a bit of an obsession with bubblegum. Its sweet, pink flavor takes me back to a time when life was less complicated, less daunting. It's a small pleasure that brings a bit of comfort to my day.
I let out a sigh and swung open my wardrobe, scanning through my clothes until my eyes landed on my high-waisted jeans and red letterman jacket. As a Russian living in England, I know it's a bit unusual for me to have an affinity for the American jock look, but it's just something that speaks to me. I chuckled to myself as I slipped into the clothes, swaying a bit to the upbeat music that was still playing softly in the background. It felt good to be dressed in something that made me feel confident and comfortable, even if it wasn't exactly the norm for my surroundings.
As I made my way into the kitchen to start my morning routine, the phone suddenly rang, making me jump. I hurried over to answer it, hoping the loud noise hadn't woken up my mother. "Hello?" I answered, slightly breathless.
"Hey, Vicky! It's Chris. Although, of course, you recognize my voice," he said, his voice full of mischief. "I'm guessing you're on your way to check out the flat soon. I mean, I am going to be your roommate after all. Rent is pricey, you know." I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Chris was my best friend, but he could also be incredibly frustrating at times.
I rolled my eyes at Chris's comment, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips despite myself. "Yeah, I'll be heading out soon," I replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Got an appointment in a little while."
"Ah, I see. You're not gonna be late, are you?" Chris asked, his tone teasing.
"No, I won't be late," I replied firmly. "I'm just grabbing some breakfast first. You know how it is."
"Of course, of course," Chris chuckled. "Well, I'll let you go then. Don't want to keep you from your important flat hunting duties."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Yeah, yeah. I'll talk to you later, Chris."
"Later, Vicky. Good luck with the flat," Chris said before hanging up.
I set the phone back in its cradle and turned to the stove to start making breakfast, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves in the pit of my stomach. This flat could be just what I needed to finally start living my own life, on my own terms.
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Record shop feels |VICTUURI AU|
FanfictionHopefully this book doesnt discontinue like every other i make. A victuuri AU again made in the 80s all chapters in victors perspective and im not spoiling the book too much