improvisation ✔️

♡ t w o

Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.

I grabbed my phone, desperately trying to silence the pestering alarm.

A sharp cold air chilled my bare chest as my father ripped the bed covers off my half-asleep self.
'No, go away.' I groaned.
'Shut up and get up, Dylan.' My father said abruptly.
'Morning to you too.' I said acting cheerful.

My father said nothing but left and slammed the door behind him; today was not a day to get on his bad side.

I crawled from the bed and dragged myself to the shower where the brief spell of cold water shook me awake. I let the water run for a while, allowing it to heat up then letting it pour over my face, enjoying the warmth similar to the comfort of my bed.

I scrubbed the shampoo through my hair, rinsed and repeated. I turned off the shower and climbed out, my feet flinching at the contrasting touch of the cold bathroom floor.

I got dressed quickly into my usual white shirt, black ripped jeans and jacket and ran the hairdryer over my hair, not taking too much time in my appearance.

—

As I did so I wondered why people thought so highly of my appearance; I mean I knew I was good looking but that's just me trying to hype myself up and make myself feel better. But it seemed that girls swooned every time I walked past - it was either that or they were choking on the extensive amount of aftershave I wore like fly repellant (or rather people repellant).

Speaking of girls, I'd never actually dated any that went to our school, only from neighbouring schools purely because they didn't know my reputation or what I was made out to be like; the bad boy.

I smoked and skipped classes that was all, not really what I would call a 'bad boy' but this term came from girls; no surprise there. They would give a nickname to anything that breathes.

To be perfectly honest none of the girls were overly pretty, just all sluts and attention seekers who dress to impress and that's what I hate.

But not her. She's different.

By her I mean Isabelle.
I've loved her ever since I laid eyes on her three years ago when she moved here. She was stunning, not that she knew that. She just thought she was ordinary but not to me. She didn't care about what other people thought of her and paid no attention to the 'queen bee's' who seemingly run the school along with their pea brain jock boyfriends or rather arm candy.

She had the most stunning ocean blue eyes that shone with emotion. Her hair was the colour of dark chocolate full of health that flowed in the wind. She had perfect features; every facial feature was where it belonged and nothing was out of place. To me, she looked like a model, but to herself, she was trash.

I didn't understand why she thought so badly of herself but then most people can't see their true self and how beautiful they really are.

I couldn't shake the image of her perfect face out of my head but I had to, she didn't like me and I had to realise that.

—

When I entered the kitchen my mother greeted me with a lovely warm greeting.
'What the hell took you so long? You're going to be late! And you stink of smoke Dylan, I thought you promised to stop?'
'I was getting changed, and so the school can wait. And I thought I'd already said; I don't make promises I can't keep.'

I grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and poured out the same bland cereal I ate every morning.

As I ate my parents discussed, in what they thought was secret, my grades and behaviour at school. Here we go again I'm in for another lecture.

I'm not sitting through one of those again. They had given me the same damn talk over and over again and I think that by now I could probably recite it I'd heard it being drilled into me that many times.

I got up from the table, just as my parents turned around to begin lecturing me, to go grab my bag.
'Oops look at the time, don't wanna be late to school now do I?' I flashed them a wide grin, raced from the kitchen, grabbed my bag and left the house.

I was relieved to not be getting another lecture but then that relief was shattered by the realisation; I had to go from one hell to another.

**