Four Hundred and Twenty | Yogscast Lewis (xReader)

O n e

O n e

N e w S c e n e r y

- P a r t  O n e -

• First Person •

A lot of people say to me that work is the only way to survive life.

To me: I would say it was half true.

Any parental spectrum would agree with the other half, but I think there is more to just having a job than just having no choice but to earn money and pay the bills. I loved my job. It was complicated; it took hours but it was worth it in the end.

Many were ecstatic when I got my Charter in computer engineering: which enabld me to be allocated by several (and I mean many) companies. Lots of people wanted me to be in their team. Most of them were big business who needed a major technician.

To my honesty: I just wanted a simple job.

So I chose Yogscast Limited. They were video content creators for YouTube, which in no doubt was something I liked because that was my part profession as well.

My channel on YouTube was...big, but not entirely much like the Yogs. I still couldn't comprehend as to how people enjoyed my videos, but I was glad that I was throwing up happiness to each and every viewer and fan. The enjoyment of video logging and playing games were two things I loved apart from proper qualifying work. It was easy and something that had allowed me to show myself without being a complete idiot.

That was the other half of me that my parents disagreed on.

Though nevertheless, I carried on with my best friend: George Kingston, to play video games. Years onward, Mark Turpin had decided for us to work with them.

"Can't believe we moved from London..." He sighed, carrying another box through the door of our new apartment. "Just to go here, in Bristol. I thought I'd never step foot in this city again."

"Well I thought I never get to see so many boxes," I groaned. "Plus it's so nice to be in the West for once..."

George snorted, "Tired of London?"

"Actually: happy to see a new scenery," I said once I picked one up and followed him inside. The apartment we got was spacious enough to have my own office to record videos out of working hours.

My best friend was much like a brother to me; he and I have become too attached ever since our teenage years. As for the love of his computer and games, he did study computer science as a bachelors degree as I was trying to get the PhD course. George was simply another person to talk to that wasn't Pippa Brindley or Georgia Summers; he understood half of what I was ranting most of the time.

They were the things that kept both of us together.

Half of the appliances and stuff we brought with us were already in the apartment, it was only the issue of actually putting the furniture together again...well some of them. George thought we had enough to fit the large space, but as I expected: we needed the trip to IKEA.

He hated IKEA a lot. So when the next day arrived, we had no choice but sit on the floor to eat breakfast, I said that it was a must to go.

"You know I hate bloody IKEA," He muttered, his eyes kept on the road.

I rolled my eyes, patting his shoulder as I spoke: "It's not going to be that bad since last time..."

He glared back, " Last time: I almost got stuck in a wardrobe; some kid found me and got scared because some man was hiding in a closet!"

Clearly knowing that George knew the usual response, I let him doddle as he drove and luckily found a parking space underneath the building. We did the usual things, skipped the showrooms and immediately heading into the market hall. Of course we got more than what we had expected and gladly ran into the warehouse and grabbed all the things we needed. I for one, loved picking the variety of sofas or bookcases.

"How about my desk," I said back to him as he was checking the list of our things needed.

George then said, "It'll be delivered in a couple of days. What's wrong with that?"

"You know I have to record with Pip and Lola," I said irritably. "Plus Jordan's thinking of getting some Mianite thing for me to be in."

"You can record at the office..." George informed. "If I do get my own room..."

I raised an eyebrow, my lips formed into a smirk. "Ooh, is someone excited to be hanging out with his favourite Youtubers?" Seconds later, a little grin began to creep onto his face - making me laugh once we were pushing the large trolleys down the travelator.

A smirk rested on my face and I eyed him in amusement, "So you are excited?"

"Shut up, [Y/N]!" George blushed and looked away. "I wished I could get a bloody boyfriend instead of this twat..." He muttered the last bit, making me nudge him by the rib. 

He was always sensitive with who he likes; sometimes he was just too sensitive and worried that he just blurts it out. Luckily no one heard apart from me.

I smiled, giving him a pat on his arm. "Hey," I spoke softly as we walked through the warehouse. "I am not leaving you unless you find you special one."

"What about you?" He stared down back at me. "How about your 'special' someone?"

This made me pause to think thoroughly. Every person I encountered has always asked that question to me, and it always made me doubt. I have tried very hard to answer that question...but it never found the correct answer.

I shrugged instead, refraining to roll my eyes. "You've asked that so many times. And still: it's an 'I don't know and I don't give a damn'."

"Okay!" He laughed. "Calm down...I'll just wait when it's the right time." Taking a deep breath, I continued placing the items onto the conveyor belt, ignoring the nagging mind of mine to stop flicking through all the possible answers my brain had capacity of.

And overall: there wasn't a single thing that included my love life.

I hope to keep it that way.

_____

A/N: So here's chapter one of Four Hundred and Twenty. Just to say: I am still not into the x Reader sort of writing so please bear in mind if in any of my chapters I accidentally call her (you) a random name.

Hoped you guys enjoyed :)

-SierraOwls