𝟐 | 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

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song: chase atlantic - friends

° ☆ 𝐊𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐧 ☆ °

As the evening sun dips below the skyline, casting a warm, amber glow over the city streets, I find myself immersed in the bustling rhythm of urban life. The sounds of laughter and music mingle with the distant hum of traffic, creating a symphony of noise that fills the air.

Inside my apartment, the atmosphere is no less lively. The steady thud of my fists against the punching bag echoes off the walls, a rhythmic beat that matches the pulse of the city outside.

But even as I lose myself in the rhythm of my workout, I can't escape the persistent knocking at my door. With a frustrated sigh, I set aside my gloves and towel off the sweat, preparing myself for whatever interruption awaits.

Throwing open the door, I'm greeted by the exuberant energy of my friend Lucas. His irreverent grin is infectious, but I can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his intrusion. Bursting inside, this motherfucker jumps at me like I'm a pile of cash.

"Finally, dude, I was turning old and grey out there already," he quips, his usual cheeky grin firmly in place. But before I can even process his presence, he wrinkles his nose in disgust. "And what the fuck, Kaden, do you even shower?" he demands, gesturing at me with distaste. "You smell like a sewer rat or something."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes, let's ignore the fact that I was beating up my punching bag, and you're next if you don't shut up," I retort, my patience wearing thin.

"Oh, am I bothering?" Lucas feigns innocence, but before I can respond, he barrels on. "Sucks to be you, because we're going out."

"Yeah, you're going out that door," I jab a thumb over my shoulder, indicating the exit he just came through.

"That's rude. Alright, I'll give you fifteen minutes - or maybe twenty, because you smell like shit," he quips with a smirk.

I shoot him a withering glare. "The last time I went out, a girl bit me," I remind him, my annoyance evident in my tone.

"People are insane these days," Lucas mutters, but his nonchalant demeanor quickly shifts as he turns his gaze to me, his expression turning serious. "But I don't really care."

I raise an eyebrow at his sudden change in tone. "If you want me to go out with you, at least don't irritate me before we even go," I retort, my patience wearing thin as I head towards the bathroom.

I quickly shower, scrubbing away the grime of my earlier workout, and dress in my usual black attire, accessorizing with my favorite necklace. Looking presentable has always been important to me, whether it's for my own sake or for others'.

Emerging from the bathroom, I'm met with Lucas's irritating grin, and I feel the urge to punch him square in the face. "I will knock you out, start counting days," I warn him, my frustration evident in my voice.

"You wouldn't do that, bestie," he taunts, and I whirl around to face him, irritation bubbling to the surface.

"Try me," I challenge, grabbing my car keys and wallet. "And never fucking call me bestie again."

"Does someone need to get laid?" Lucas's smile remains plastered on his face, despite my obvious annoyance.

"No, stop speaking bullshit," I retort, feeling my patience wearing thin. "Get moving if you want to go that bad," I snap, motioning towards the door. "And I'm picking the place. You have like no sense of taste," I add, trying to inject a bit of levity into the situation.

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