Vic POV
"Goodnight." I yell down the stairs to my parents. They're sitting on the couch watching 'Grey's Anatomy'. In my opinion that show has been dragged on too long.
I walk to the bathroom but the door's locked. I can't believe Mike is still in there. He's my younger brother. "Seriously Mike, you have been in there for over ten minutes what the hell are you doing?"
"Do you really want to know?" He laughs.
"Gross" I walk down the hall to my parents room and turn on the light in the master bath. I wash my face and proceed to brush my teeth with what I hope is not my dads toothbrush. My straight brown hair is wet from my shower earlier and my eyes match.
I walk out of the bathroom and into my room. The room is blue. I have band posters plastered all over the walls so you can't really tell. The Beatles and Queen, Third Eye Blind, Thrice and Saves The Day. Just some of my favorites.
I also have a guitar hanging above my bed that my parents bought me for Christmas last year. It's white and looks like there's green slime splattered and dripping on it.
I take off my shirt and my jeans and crawl into bed. I grab my phone off my nightstand and open my music. I turn on Thrice and I slowly fall asleep.
----------------------------------------------
I wake up at around three. My earbuds still in, I remove them. There is no way I'm going to fall asleep tonight. But at least I slept for two hours. I may have insomnia but we don't know for sure yet. I took some tests last month but we haven't gotten results.
I open Instagram and scroll through my feed. Damn, I follow so many whores it's almost unhealthy. Naked mirror pics, bikini pics with sandy asses and cleavage. So much cleavage. But I'm not complaining.
As I scroll I see a name that I recognize: Kellin Quinn Botswick. I'm pretty sure he's in my gym class and I'm pretty sure he cuts. That's the rumor at least. Apparently he's really good at hiding it. He never talks and he doesn't make eye contact. He obviously has shitty parents because if they payed attention they would realize it's not normal to wear sweatshirts when it's eighty-four degrees outside. Everyone calls him emo, I hate that word.
