Thin Line

1. Nah

⚠️⚠️⚠️ ATTENTION ⚠️⚠️⚠️
This book starts off slowly, as in the first few chapters don't delve into the main plot straight away. I wanted it like this because I'm personally not a fan of books that move too fast and you don't get a chance to know the characters well.

Also, I plan to update and edit the chapters after the stories done so I apologise in advance for the shit grammar and punctuation.

Also, also, the first few chapters are pretty bad but if you stick (or skim lmao) through them, I promise it gets better.

You can imagine Chanel as whoever you want to, but the attached picture (Kami Osman) is who I imagine her as.

Leave comments and enjoy! 🖤
-

I rolled over to the other side of my bed and picked up my phone from my bedside table. Barely being able to open my eyes, I forcefully tapped the snooze button.

Fuck that alarm.

The sound of it always managed to make its way into my brain and disturb my entire being. I'd always tell myself to change it, but never did. It was the only alarm that bothered me enough to actually wake me.

I trudged into the bathroom and began going through my excessive six step Korean skin care routine, that might I add, had been doing absolutely nothing for my skin. After brushing my teeth I made my way to my closet. As per usual I slipped on a pair of black jeans and a top. I grabbed a jacket and scarf and made my way downstairs.

Ever since Kian moved away to college two years ago, the house had become almost dead like. Not that he was ever home when he was around, but just the presence of another being brought more life to the house.

"Good morning mother, you look lovely" I muttered, taking in her sleep deprived state from behind the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in her hand as usual.

"Good morning my not so lovely daughter" my mother replied, a hint of her original accent still creeping into her words.

Let me give you the little rundown on my family history.

My moms Persian. Her family migrated to America when she was 14 years old. It took her a while but eventually she got a hang of English and the American culture, or lack thereof. She studied hard, pulled good grades and eventually got into a good college where she studied medicine. All of which made her extremely cultured parents proud, besides one little thing.

She fell in love with a white boy.

Despite the many protests of her parents, she married him. Years down the track after having Kian and I, mom and dad eventually called it quits, much to my moms dismay because she really did cop it bad from her family afterwards with the 'I told you so's'.

It wasn't anything too dramatic, they ended it on mutual terms. It just seemed as they got older they realised how little they got along and how much they rushed into it.

Dad moved to another state and remarried. We try to see him every year, either he comes to us or we go to him. So again, no petty shit.

Kian and I love both our parents equally.

I ignored her comment and grabbed a piece of bread from the refrigerator, spread Nutella on it and began to shove it in my mouth.

"Anyways" I began through mouthfuls, "I have work after school so I'll be home later. Don't wait up."

My mom scoffed, "Funny, I was going to say the same thing."

Remember how I said mom studied medicine for her parents? Yeah, well that led her to becoming a surgeon. That meant late work nights were a norm for her. Although, I had certain suspicions that she's been spending more time down at the hospital for another reason. But that wasn't any of my business, yet.