Awks. ✓

Chapter 1: The Name's Marianne.

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"Marianne, will you please do the dishes tonight?"

"Marianne, you're going to be late for work. Hurry up."

"Marianne, don't forget to take the trash out."

"Marianne, have you seen my keys?"

"Marianne, take this cake over to your grandma's."

"Marianne, .."

"Marianne, .."

"Marianne!!"

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The name's Marianne, if you haven't guessed by now. It's not the most beautiful nor unique name out there, but by the way my family abuses it and says it in every damn sentence should be enough to make it so.

I'm not interesting, not even in the slightest way possible. I'm an only child who still lives with her parents. I have no hidden talents nor hobbies. I wasn't popular back in high school. I'm not drop dead gorgeous. I don't even know how to contour if my freaking life depended on it.

I'm just an average, plain Jane, who favours a pair of converse over heels any day and makes a couple of bucks as a waitress at some café. Simples.

I can't work at that café forever... I didn't waste fourteen years of my life in the shithole that is school only to end up serving people mochas and lattes.

Come to think of it, I haven't really used most of the bullcrap I was taught back then now in the real world. I'm not a walking equation because I'm pretty sure I won't be buying thirty four watermelons anytime soon. Discounts at stores aren't based on square roots and theories like 'Oh, this was √49 + √4x, but now it's only for 7 + 2√x.'

"Marianne?!"

The sight of snapping fingers in front of my face caused me to jump back in my seat.

"When did you get home?" I asked my dad, not hiding the confusion clear in my voice.

"A couple of minutes ago." He replied, sitting on the couch next to me. "You were daydreaming again, weren't you?"

"Pfft, no." I denied, looking down at my penguin slippers.

"Right, you were focused on the television screen. Never knew you were a baseball fan."

I shook my head immediately. I despised all things that included unnecessary movement; so sports were a no no.

He pointed at the screen and I hadn't even noticed the game I was supposedly 'watching' until then. I felt my cheeks begin to warm up.

"Okay, maybe I was." I mumbled.

"My lips are sealed." He chuckled, bringing his thumb and index finger to one corner of his mouth and sliding it towards the other, gesturing to an invisible zipper.

My dad has always been the understanding type, the complete opposite of my beloved mother. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have that stereotypical, hardcore father who wears the pants in the family but I think I like my goofy dad just the way he is.

Take my so called 'daydreaming' for example. I don't like labeling it as that. It's more like 'zoning out into my own little world because the one I live in is too boring for my liking'. Yeah..

My dad likes to think I'm imaginative and am destined for greatness or something. My mum on the other hand says my attention span is a joke and is convinced that I'm sick.

"I'm sure there are pills you can take to fix whatever is going on in that little head of yours." She'd always say. She's tried talking my dad into taking me to a shrink so many times that I've lost count. I guess after graduating, she's just given up on it.

It's something I can just live with normally I guess and isn't termed dangerous. Except for this one time when I was crossing the road and almost got hit by a car, but other than that, not dangerous.

"Your mum was called in for another night shift I'm guessing." He said.

I nodded. We were used to not having her at home for dinner ever since Georgetown hospital's hostage incident a couple of years ago.

"Let's watch a movie." He suggested, smacking his thighs before standing up. I must have looked pathetic and he felt sorry for me. "I'll whip something up to eat, you go on and choose what you want to watch."

He didn't have to tell me twice.

***

I ended up settling for both 'Amazing Spiderman' movies. Andrew Garfield is bae and anyone who objects can just simply choke on air.

Waking up the next morning was a battle. It didn't take long for the responsible side of me to take charge and get out of bed. I couldn't risk being late for work, again.

I'm still a newbie and the manager cut me some slack the first time but made it very clear that he didn't tolerate tardiness. And between you and I, he frankly scares the shit out of me.

I finally got up and went to the toilet. I took a shower, brushed my teeth and for some reason, I was in the mood to wing my eyeliner.

After six failed attempts, I gave up and simply wiped the sides of my eyelids. The struggle is just ugghhh. I envy girls with the super power of being able to create symmetrical flicks on both eyes. Must be genetic or something.

Who even invented eyeliner? Like, what were they even thinking? 'I like my eyes, but I think they'd look better with a black line covering the margins of my eyelids, yeah'.

And what about the flickery ends, eh? I bet it was discovered by accident or something. Like let's say a lady (who I assume made it a thing, because I don't know but I feel like it was) went to a mirror and began applying eyeliner on her upper eyelid. Her younger sister comes and wants to use the mirror so she bumps into her, jerking her arm upwards and BAM, winged eyeliner.

I wonder what people thought of it at first. 'What kind of sorcery is this?!' Society isn't a big fan of change, so how could everyone be down with the evolution of makeup that is the winging of eyeliner?

"Marianne!!" My dad's muffled voice screamed, accompanied by heavy bangs on the bathroom door. "It's almost ten, you're late!"

SHOOT!!!!!

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A/N:

Hope you guys liked the first chapter x

If you haven't noticed, the main character's 'internal thoughts' are italicized. Just thought I'd make it clear to avoid confusion.

And I've casted Marianne as the amazing Kat Graham, who's also featured on the cover..

Dedicated to hellatchalla , the first Marianne to comment on this story :')

Feel free to comment, vote, follow, whatever :')

And thank you for giving this story a shot!! ♡

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