Chlorine (Creepypasta x Male Reader)

One

It starts off a bit slow, but picks up after this first chapter!

Inside the large, old warehouse was crowded with teens and young adults alike, all dressed in dark and torn clothing. A cold wind blew in from the open bay doors, curling around your toned legs and exposed neck. Lights flashed across the crowd as the music from your band nearly shook the broken glass from its panes. The music and melodies flowed through your veins freely in a rush, making the emotion in your voice sound all the better as you practically screamed into the microphone.

Your slim fingers cradled the mic stand as if it were made of glass and could break under the slightest bit of pressure. Nate - your bands lead guitarist and resident surfer dude turned metal head - came to stand beside you on the stage you had set up just a few hours before. You had been extremely lucky to find a place like this on such short notice. Without it, both you and your bandmates would have been stuck playing for a much smaller crowd in some random, gothic themed coffee shop.

This was so much better. More space, more people, more freedom to move and be as loud as you wanted. You wanted to keep this feeling going for eternity and then some. But all things must come to an end, including an impromptu concert. You knew it would end eventually - it was going on three in the morning now. What you hadn't been expecting was for your bandmates to leave you while you were looking for your guitar case.

Upon walking out to see nobody waiting on you, you cursed aloud.

"Are you serious right now!?" you all but shouted. "They can't wait five minutes for me to go and find my case, but they can wait weeks for a show opportunity to pop up? Un-fucking-believable."

You let out a huff of annoyance and pulled out your nearly dead phone. You didn't live all too far from the old warehouse and could be back in your cozy bed easily within twenty minutes by car. But seeing as you would be walking and you had a guitar to carry on your back it was looking closer to an hour now. Great.

Putting in your headphones and turning on your old MP3 player from the early 2000's, you began your trek back home. At this time of night the littered streets were empty of all life and lit up with flickering, broken streetlamps. You sang along lowly to the words of the songs, eyes cast down to the ground and (h/c), (hair/type) hair bouncing in your vision with each step of your beat-up converse.

You scrolled through the music on your playlist until you came upon the two hour long piano music you had downloaded onto it a few years ago after joining the band. After late night sessions and loud, thumping music blaring in your ears for hours at a time, it was nice to listen to something calming every once in a while for a change. It helped to soothe your frayed nerves whenever you would have to end up walking back to your place on nights such as this.

Turning your key in the lock of your front door you realized it had been left unlocked the whole night. You thought it odd for a moment, but shook it off as being too excited for a show after so long to remember locking the door before you left. You turned the knob and opened it anyways, stepping into a the dimly lit entryway of your small house that your parents had helped you to buy before their passing.

A car accident, and of all things a drunk driving one at that.

You nudged your boots off by the door and turned to lock both locks for the night. You dropped the keys into the little bowl and walked into your living room, turning on the light. The TV was currently turned off on it's stand across the room from your plush couch covered in knitted blankets from your mother, and throw pillows your gran had pointed out when you had gone furniture shopping with her a few years back. The curtains for the large bay window sat opened with your corgi Ezra curled up asleep on the little bench you had put there specifically for such a reason.