On Your Marks... (Reader X Markiplier)

1. The move

God it is hot.

GOD IT IS HOT.

SO FUCKING-

You catch yourself before thinking the next sentence. Of course it's hot; you are from the UK after all and it is universally known for its shit weather.

You sighed as you meandered out of the plane at Los Angeles airport, you couldn't remember which one, back home cities only had one. Admittedly, this may not have been the best decision to make, looking back, but the guy who offered you a place seemed nice on the phone and the price was low. L.A. just seemed like the best place to go to escape the confines of home and make a career for yourself. You couldn't understand the whole fixation of making a life in the big Apple when here was a far better place to find fame.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you walk hesitantly out of the airport and into the parking lot, waiting for your ride. Since you couldn't imagine a reason for leaving the city, you thought it would be a waste to buy or rent a car over here, and your roomie offered to pick you up anyway. You tried to convince him you'd just get a taxi, but he was adamant that it would be irresponsible to let you make your way through Los Angeles alone without knowing the place. Such a gentleman. Your phone buzzed loudly in your jean pocket.

Sorry, held up in traffic,
Be there in about half an hour.

You sighed heavily, L.A. traffic was a bitch, you knew that much. You thought back to your last moments at home. It felt bad at the time to leave your parents, siblings and friends behind, but Northern England was a death trap - a rut that was very easy to get into but almost impossible to escape. You knew that the longer you stayed at home, the less chance you had at getting away and becoming something more than a teacher or engineer. You remembered how your mum had tears in her eyes and your dad tried to hide how much he would miss you in the square of his shoulders. You remembered how your siblings clutched at your clothes as if they were hanging off the edge of a cliff, in a desperate attempt to keep you home. You knew that the tears running down your face would ruin your makeup, but you didn't care when you had to say such a sad goodbye.

"Please be safe (Y/ N)." Your mum begged.
"Do us proud." Your dad added.
"We love you."

Staring dangerously at the sun was all you could do to keep the tears from pricking your eyes. You would visit when you had the money, and call regularly until then, but it still hurt to leave the ones you love behind. Thankfully, your talents could be relied upon to make new friends and connections here. You glanced down at your huge luggage at your feet. Shame you couldn't take your consoles with you, but you loved your musical instruments too much to leave them - plus it'd be unfair to take them from your siblings. Not only that, but you spent so much time and money on music that it'd be a waste to abandon it, especially in Los Angeles.

Suddenly, a honk sounded from in the lot, bringing you out of your reverie. You didn't look back as you picked up your bags and strode to the car, leaving the dust of England behind on the curb.

A/N

Thank you for reading, this is my first serious fic and I hope you like it. If you do, please leave me a comment and tell me how to improve - it goes a long way.