El Mañana (Murdoc x Reader x 2D)

Feel Great Inc.

I had friends. It was quick, almost in a blink they were there. College students, they had told me. Said I could crash with them in their shared house. Apparently they were friends for the longest time if they were comfortable with sharing a house together. I had a few complaints, like how the seats of the van had squeaked when you made the slightest movement, or why I had become so reckless in a short amount of time.

Their house wasn't anything special. Two stories, narrow hallways, a lurking smell of chemical and smoke, which I had to assume were coming from the basement, had popped up every now and then. One the outside were lawn chairs tipped over, weeds all over the ground, and a bunch of crushed cans of beer all over the place. There was graffiti on the walls of the house, which had been stained with dirt, and what seemed like mold. The porch was rotting, with multiple holes, and the blinds were always drawn shut.

On the inside, there were a few couches in the living room, with an uneven chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a tipped over lamp, and a crooked television right above the fireplace, which also had a funky smell coming from it. The carpets were bright red, and shag, like in the 70's. There were multiple stains, all of which were light enough to show up on the dark red carpet. I didn't feel safe as I walked up the black stairs, which had paint chipping at the edges. The wallpaper was dark green, and the colors had consumed all of the potential light that could be in the room, so it was naturally dim.

Then there was my new room. They were so open, making jokes and jabs at each other. They didn't care that I barely talked with them, only responding with shakes and nods, not even asking who I was. I could be a murderer, for all they knew. Or maybe a police investigator, because I was positive that there was some kind of drug operation going on here.

Anyways, my new room was pretty small. I couldn't complain, though. The bed was clean, and there was a window that was boarded up. Also, there was a wardrobe, in the form of a nightstand. And with the clothes that I had brought, it seems like they could all fit. Again, I couldn't complain. They had picked me up when no one else would, and they thought it was 'sick' that I had played the guitar.

"Hey, Y/N, can you come downstairs?" I heard them call as I had just finished putting away my belongings, my guitar sitting gently on the bed. I brushed myself off, unsure of how much dust had actually been in this room before I came in, and walked down the stairs, stepping lightly over the broken one, with the hole in it. I should have a talk about lighting with them. It would improve the house.

I grabbed the railing, and swim myself around. Aaron, a tall white dude, was laying on the couch, something that wasn't a cigarette rolled up between his fingers, and a magazine in his other hand. He talked a lot, but he was in some sort of high right now. Maybe I made a mistake. But, it was too late to fix anything. I walked past him, pulling down my shirt, and quietly walked into the kitchen where Sherry, the fake blonde with the brown eyes, like a golden retriever's, was sitting at the kitchen, looking at a couple of pieces of paper in her hand.

I didn't say anything, but she must've heard me walk in, because she looked up from the things in her hands, an award-winning smile graving her face. The kitchen wasn't all that big, and was the brightest part of the house because of the large window. There were neon green counters, with a tan wood used for the doors of the cabinets. There were oranges and lemons speckled on the curtains, with a white backdrop. The yard was a disaster, but nothing a little time would fix. I wasn't planning on staying here for long.

"Oh, hey, I almost didn't hear you there. Look, I have a question, and I want to know your answer, obviously. It's not about Aaron, I'm not going to pester you about him again." She blabbered, hiding the pieces of paper behind her back. She had a thing for Aaron, and kept on asking me if I thought he had liked her. I nodded my head, trying to be nice, and she totally flipped. Aaron was sleeping at the time, but he woke up when she began to scream. She called it girl hormones.