UNORTHODOX | KAI PARKER

V .DRIVE.

Chapter 5

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I rummage through Stefan's chest of drawers as the 11am sun illuminates the room. The only sound rumbling throughout the vast house being the ruckus from whatever is siphoner is doing downstairs and the music of Soundgarden. I sigh, running severely low on any wearable clothes. God Stefan, I know it was the nineties and your fashion sense is a bit boring but seriously, how many plain white tank tops and grey t-shirts do you need?

I don't allow the lack of clothing to subdue my mood, however, whistling happily and a pep in my step as I flit around the room. Today's the day. The actual day. No more waiting as precious time flies by. No more relying on other people to rescue me, to rescue us. We're taking this on ourselves, helping ourselves. We're getting out, whether it be tomorrow, or a week from now. It's finally fucking happening.

I'm ripped from my thoughts as I eventually find a plain black t-shirt. A choked snort of humour is pulled from my throat. "Wow Stef, the diversity in your closet is immaculate," I chuckle to myself, shaking my head and pulling the shirt over my naked torso. I pull on the only pair of jeans that actually fit me, my own from when I arrived here, every day freshly washed and dried, laid out atop the armchair in my room. It was kind of thoughtful on his behalf, I can admit that.

I brush past the mirror, fingers tangled in my knotted brown locks and come to an abrupt halt, breath leaving me. For fucks sake, not again.

The full body apparition stands in the mirror, figure somewhat transparent and ghostly. We lock eyes and an odd sense of familiarity washes over me. Almost as if I know the hallucination. This wasn't uncommon, honestly a daily experience when left alone in the room at this point. But nevertheless, it always sent me into a state of shock, body freezing and vocabulary escaping me.

I squeeze my eyes shut in a harsh blink, dainty lights dancing around the back of my eyelids from the pressure. When my eyes reopen, the only figure staring back at me in the mirror is myself. I shake my head, grumbling "Going fuckin' crazy, man", before hastily pulling on my shoes and making my way downstairs.

I'm met with the sight of the siphoner pulling on his denim jacket, something I rarely see him without even in the 90° sticky Virginia weather, as I come to the bottom of the stairway. An award winning smile takes over his face as he spots me, eyes glinting in the light. I don't respond, still visibly shaken from the encounter, no matter how normal it has become for me, and make a beeline for the couch.

"Well good morning to you, too," Kai says with a grin, flinging a pair of car keys, which I'm pretty sure are Damon's, around his fingers. I ignore him, taking note of the rucksack beside me on the couch, obviously full, and I make a grab for it.

"Ah ah ah," Kai admonishes, grappling with my fingers and eventually winning, pulling the bag over both his shoulders. "That's for Kai to have." I snort at him speaking in third person, but inevitably admit defeat, sulking back into the couch with muttered 'Whatever'. I cringe at my own transparency.

The siphoner's eyes rake over me from above, head tilted down and jaw locked in place from clear annoyance. Another sigh. I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head to rid myself of the sour demeanour, but the only image stored behind my eyelids is that of the face. The familiar, almost knowing face. Eyes boring into mine with a sense of urgency. Like it's trying to tell me something with it's cold eyes. C'mon Fox, don't let some stupid hallucination ruin this monumental day.

"C'mon, let's get out of here finally," I hop up from the couch, a forced cheeriness to my voice. If you pretend for long enough, eventually you'll forget you're pretending. A hand around my forearm interrupts my journey towards the front door. I whip around to face him and he drops my arm.