'Fuck It'(Ch.1)

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Y/n pov:

I was in my room laying in my bed on Instagram reels. It was around maybe 3 in the morning.

I was beyond bored.

I was sick of sitting here in Kentucky.

I wanted to go out and do stuff.

I wanted to go to L.A.

Cause that's where all the pretty people where.

Pretty popular and successful people.

I'm delusional.

I want people to love me.

I want people to stan me.

I want fans.

I want to be the reason people are happy.

I want people to look up to me and trust me.

I wanna be perfect and pretty and popular.

I wanna be that pretty boy that people make edits of.

I just want to be successful.

I want to leave.

"Yeah Fuck it" I yap to my self, turining off my phone and going to my scarlet red laptop on my desk.

I sit down and open it.

With a few types and a few clicks im on Flights.Com
(made that up on spot don't search that)

I see multiple fights for different states but one stuck out to me.

'Flight in a week to Los Angeles'

"For a month" i read out to myself.

Honestly staying in L.A. for a month doesnt sound to bad.

I could rent a apartment or and airbnb when i get there.

Mm.
But the car.

Fuck i guess i could rent a car there to but damn thats expensive as hell.

I could just figure it out when i get there.

A few more clicks and a few more types.

*ding*

Flight is booked.

Ah damn..

I really just did that.

Now i have to pack.

I take a picture of my ticket on the screen, even though i have it to where its sent to my phone.

i just want to be sure.

I close the laptop and look in the mirror

"Damn i look like Shit" i laugh to myself.

I go to my closet and pull out my suit case thats been sitting there since i got it.
5 years ago..
Oh Lord.

"Ugh" i groan out as i see the dust on it.

'I should probably clean it' i think to myself.

I walk out of my room and go to the bathroom and grabing a wash cloth. I damp it and come back to my room and wipe off all the dust.

I unzip it and look at the inside. It looked fine but I still wiped it off anyway.

I put the cloth in the laundry basket and went to my dresser to pick out some clothes id wanna where for the month being there.

'Ah shit.. A month...' I think to myself.

What am i thinking.

I literally wear the same thing over and over.
washing it of course but like....
People in L.A. always have a new outifit for each day.

'Damn, looks like i should just take my whole fucking dresser' i think to myself.

I grab my phone and call my friend.

*ring....ring...ring..*

"Wassuuuppp fuckkerr" My friend said through the phone.

"Yo dude, mind if you could like come over and help my pick out some clothes for each day of the month?" I say point blank.

"Damn, why you planing ahead?" They say. I hear in the background that they grabbed something that sount like keys.

"Im going to L.A. in a Month"

"WHAT?! WITHOUT ME!?" They say shocked only halfway joking.

"I need to get the fuck out of this state for a while dude" i groan out dreading being here for any longer.

"I get it, this state sucks ass. Im on my way. Be ther in 2 hours" They say.

"You live so far" i giggle out

"Shut up emo" They say.

"Ohhhhhhkayyyyy I'm gonna beat the fuck outta you" i say joking along with them.

"Alright I'll see ya" They say.

"Ight thank you, bye" i say say then hanging up

L.A. better be worth it.

687 words

-Kall

-Angel of Death- Johnnie Guilbert X Male ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now