Unlikely ✓

Two: This is Reality Now

POV: Zen Teller

Some people woke up to their alarms, I woke up to my brother screaming at me while nudging my shoulder violently.

I did what anyone would have done.

I screamed back at him and pushed the pink-haired boy to the floor.

"Good morning to Princess himself," Mock cheered.  "We need to leave in fifteen so get dressed," he spoke before going back upstairs.

I barely had time to wake up, but then again I wasn't much of a morning person.  It often would take at least ten minutes to even think about getting up and starting whatever of the day I had left.

My room was down in the basement—one of the reasons I agreed to the new house.  It was essentially so I could have a whole floor to myself and to no longer share a room with Mock.

However, the basement needed work.  There were boxes everywhere along with trash bags of clothes I had ripped open to find something to wear.

Yesterday was supposed to be the day that my family all stayed home and unpacked the house in one big go, but I slept most of the day.  It was a miracle I even remembered to put sheets on my bed.

Today was different, I was going to school... two months into the school year and I was not all that happy to have to start over.

It would be a change in scenery in the same play that was life.  It would just be like all the other schools or towns, it was merely a different place, not different people.

I managed to get up and change into a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black hoodie to throw it all together.  I brushed my teeth and tried to make it look like I didn't just get rudely awoken by a blur of pastels.

When that failed, I just gave up.

There were dark circles under my eyes, my dark brown hair was a mess of bedhead, and I still had hickeys on my neck from the party I went to the other night.

That night was kinda a blur.  Of course, I remember some things like the bright colors and touches that seemed to linger on my body leaving a high of its own on my skin.  I was high though, for the night and most of the day that followed.

The thing that I could remember most vividly was that the boy I half-hooked up with who quite literally fell into my arms.  I didn't even ask his name and for whatever fucked up reason I actually wanted to know.

Why the fuck do you even give a shit? 

You never do any other time.

Pushing past the questions I probably would never learn the answers to—I headed upstairs where I saw Mock at the kitchen counter eating a breakfast sandwich.  The boy was more pastel than ever when he left the house.

"Davis left breakfast in the microwave," he muttered, his mouth full of food still.

I nodded but didn't say anything.

Davis—my dad was not known for cooking, in fact, he couldn't do it to save his or his children's lives.  However, the man could bake, blueberry muffins were always my favorite but he'd only make them when blueberries were in season or on special occasions.

Mock gave me a look and I ignored it.  I took one of the sandwiches even if I wasn't all that hungry.  I didn't like the jittery feeling when I was high on an empty stomach so I ate half the sandwich.

It was just too much work to eat the whole thing.

"Morning fuckers," Dusk walked downstairs.

I rolled my eyes at my younger sibling before checking their wrist, something I had grown so used to doing I barely even noticed it anymore.