(Y'all in for a treat, I tell you. ⚠️CW/TW: blood, mild gore, graphic depictions of violence, substance abuse, mentions of past trauma, s/h, self-destructive behavior, suicide mention. Viewer discretion is advised.⚠️)
Saturday, December 14th, 202█.
It might be a new day, but Four still felt just as tired as yesterday. No day would ever see them wake up well rested, and it was just going to stay that way until they died. That, they at least knew for sure.
Four cursed their absolutely fucked up sleep schedule for waking them at 5 in the morning, but they couldn't really do anything about that. Especially not now that both of their eyes were wide open and staring at the ceiling.
It was weird to them, the way they woke up. They weren't jolted out, or violently breaking out into cold sweats this morning, nor did they wake from any dream. It was a memory again. Two nights in a row was peculiar, but not uncalled for. After all, they had a lot of buried memories that they'd sell their soul to wipe them off the face of the Earth.
At least it was Saturday. Four could go visit the local bar today and not talk to anybody. At least there was that to look forward to.
It was still freezing cold in their home this morning, after all, they still didn't have an air conditioner. The lofthouse cookies on their table, however, were still warm, which was a weird phenomenon, as they'd expected it to be freezing just like the rest of the house.
That was evident when they reached in to grab one as an early morning snack before they went out, expecting cold, hard cookies but getting ones that were still soft on the teeth, crumbling so nicely on their tongue without coating the sterling silver piercing in food. Odd, but Four wasn't complaining about it. Free cookies were free cookies.
Grabbing their favorite jacket off the hook they'd put it on yesterday, Four prepared themselves for going outside, like they hadn't just been out there a few hours ago. They knew it was going to be noisy, just like every other day walk they'd ever made, so they popped in their earbuds – wired, of course, they were too broke to afford a good pair – and headed out.
The first song coming up in their queue was "First Love/Late Spring" by Mitski, a personal favorite of theirs. The music echoed around their head, stepping to the beat as they headed toward the rest of town. It'd be at least an hour before they were going to drown their sorrows, so Four might as well kill a little time.
Their earbud wire swung forward, creating a little boom in the sound as it hit their leg, before bouncing back up to repeat the cycle. It was an oddly comforting noise to hear, thudding on the off-beat perfectly every single time with the practice they'd put into pointless things like that.
Plus, it was a thing to focus on and ground themselves with as they entered the louder parts of town. It was a nice thing to keep them from freaking out when they'd inevitably brush shoulders with a stranger on accident, flinching so hard they would fall to the ground again like they'd been electrocuted. They were safe in music.
As "First Love/Late Spring" faded out, Sir Chloe's "Michelle" came in with its instrumental start. Two back-to-back favorites was unusual for them, but it was Saturday. It wasn't exactly a surprise.
As the vocals started Four went into store number one, to get some new winter boots. They might as well indulge, they had time, and theirs were still crusted with cement, which probably would never come out. Even though it was mostly cosmetic gripes, there was still some stuck under the heel, and that was a huge no for Four. Traction was a thing they needed in boots, and cement stuck in the grips of the sole would hinder that, rendering them basically useless.
YOU ARE READING
Written in the Stars
Science Fiction"If you love someone, let them go." A motto Four had always despised. After being abandoned twenty years ago to be subjected to the mercy of people who didn't care for them, they'd learned that that motto was a lie, a sham, a way to get them to shut...
