James x Reader | Pokemon | - | REWRITE |

TR | Needing a Script

When James woke up, the first second was blank, as was the first second of every waking up. It made it worse, then, when he remembered what he had planned---no, what he needed---to do today.

But how would he be going about that?

He looked to his unwritten script laying under the blankets in front of him. He smiled, though he was anything but happy. But he was where he needed to be: with actions so uncomfortable ahead of him but a future so bright---well, to be so bright, planned to be so bright, supposed to be so bright. But really he was just shining a flickering flashlight into the darkness ahead of him, the batteries about to die any second now and leave him in the middle of uncertainty. The colors appeared bright, but that wouldn't be what he was stepping forward into. And the last time he was in a forest, things didn't go so well...

The flashlight, his script, and perhaps the trees in the forest would all be waking soon. So he looked to them once more, wondering if they could possibly grasp how important they were to him---not in a particularly sappy way, but more in a technical way.

But he was having regrets. Should he really be doing this? He always heard the stories of overcoming peer pressure---known as a nasty, hate-fueled, violent and malevolent thing---but wouldn't peer pressure just be the lines to the box of common sense? And who was he to think outside of it, then? If the sense was common it must be right to be held for so long, and he was never known to have any sense for himself, and he, in addition, was especially not common.

He sighed and laid back down. Quite convenient for himself that he could complain of being tired on what would possibly be the most important day of the mostly unimportant life he was living thus far.

But he knew they wouldn't let him complain. And he was relieved.