For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a sense of normalcy permeated the air. It was as if they had been transported back to the blissful days of October, a time when life seemed less complicated.
As I groggily emerged from my slumber, I found Emma already in the kitchenette, fixing herself a bowl of cereal. We exchanged brief morning greetings as I sluggishly made my way to the living room, where the remnants of Emma's bedding were still scattered across the sofa.
"Morning," I managed to mumble, collapsing onto the couch, fighting the urge to drift back to sleep.
Emma turned around, her tone relatively cheery. "Morning. Why are you up so early?"
"I could ask you the same thing," I grumbled, my eyes threatening to shut again. I forced myself to sit up, resisting the comfort of Emma's bedding, and wandered over to her neglected piano, which had acquired a thin layer of dust over time. It irritated me, to be honest. She had splurged on this exquisite musical instrument instead of prioritising our living situation and well-being.
Leaning against the piano, I gazed out the window, hoping the brightness of the day would help shake off my drowsiness.
"I'm meeting up with Marcy and James this morning to hit Biba as soon as it opens. They're having a summer sale, and we want to grab some stuff," Emma informed me.
My stomach sank a little, I won't deny it. I had never been able to buy anything from Biba, as I had mentioned before. The unspoken truth hung in the air, indicating that I hadn't been invited because shopping trips to Biba made me anxious. What was the point of tagging along when I couldn't purchase anything to uplift my spirits? Not much, in my opinion.
"That's nice," I replied, folding my arms, my insecurities beginning to take hold. "Where did James go?"
"What do you mean?" Emma asked, seemingly perplexed.
"Well, he used to work a bit at the studio, right? There's a new girl there now."
"For a while, but I think he's doing some assistant work now. Not at the studio, just... at the shops," she explained.
"Vague," I muttered, turning around and heading towards the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. "He never mentioned that."
"He probably didn't want to upset you," Emma casually remarked, sipping her tea and settling on the sofa as if she hadn't just thrust a dagger into my heart and twisted it a hundred times. I busied myself with preparing my morning coffee, forcing myself to appear oblivious to the conversation, even though I was acutely aware of its impact on me.
"So, why are you up early?" Emma inquired, her voice dripping with sickening sweetness.
"Got a meeting," I replied as curtly as possible, pouring boiling water into my mug with a haphazard toss of instant coffee.
"With?" she pressed.
"Professor Ross. You know, our teacher," I retorted, rolling my eyes, fully aware that Emma couldn't see my exasperated expression. "I understand if you've forgotten who that is, considering you've conveniently skipped all the coursework lectures."
"Alright, no need to get pissy, love," Emma responded, attempting to pacify me.
"Not getting pissy, love. Just happened to be in a bad mood today," I replied, turning away after adding some sugar to my beverage.
"Why?" Emma narrowed her eyes, her mouth slightly agape as if she couldn't fathom anyone but herself being in a foul mood.
"Hmm... I don't know. It's strange. I was fine when I woke up," I pouted, shrugging my shoulders. "Who knows? I'm off to get my things and get changed." I left Emma in the living room, bewildered by my curt demeanour. I relished in the satisfaction of confusing her—it was one of the few moments where I felt a semblance of power or control over her mind. Perhaps I had a touch of sociopathy, just maybe.

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𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐮𝐲 ➺ 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓎 & 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃
FanfictionIt's 1972, and Maria is studying Events Management at Imperial College in London. Twenty-two, and in need of experience, she enters a deal with her Professor to look after a local student band, with a frontman as eccentric as ever, and a guitarist w...