•dystopia•

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°Dystopia°

-an imaginary place where people are unhappy or usually afraid because they are not treated fairly

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A mundane life -- it depends on your perspective if you are to deem such satisfying or not. It simply means living through you average days.

The reason I had chosen such words for this chapter's expose was rather simple; it is to formally introduce the mundane life of the main character of this amateur story -- one darling readers had been curious with for quite a while now.

Before we get into that, however. We should learn to note that the norm may vary from different people. One may find waking up in a king-sized bed an average event for them, yet on the other hand, that is something out of reach and above average for others. Let us be honest here. We simply consider something normal for the sole reason that majority agrees with it. In other words -- normalcy is a mere opinion. But, you are free to refute with my words; that is nothing but my own opinion as well.

"Um... Your order is here, ma'am." It had been the third time the server had mumbled out the set of words in front of the female before her -- hands shakily holding a tray of where a slice of cake and a cup of milk tea was settled. As it seemed the costumer was currently too engaged with the sketch she was currently working on, a bead of sweat dropped from her forehead. "Um... Your order..."

Witnessing his co-worker's struggle with the high school student, a short-haired male steps in as a frown decorated his features. Without any warning, he grabbed the female costumer's earphone, before stating by her ear. "Oi, (Y/N)! She's been calling out to you for three minutes now!"

The aforementioned (h/c)-haired female jolts up from the loud tone, jerking up her head quickly -- which resulted to their heads bumping into each other. Groans escaped from both their lips at the impact, rubbing their forehead to ease the pain.

"Geez, you seriously need to pay attention to your surroundings." The brunette claims upon straightening himself up. The classmate of the girl with (e/c) hues gently took the tray out of his co-workers hands, reassuring the waitress that he would handle the troublesome costumer. With a nod, she leaves to attend to another. "Give a bit of space for the food, woman. Why are you even turning this cafe into your workshop anyways?"

"I was having creative block, mind you." (Y/N) huffs, flippping her sketchpad close and grabbing the various pens, markers and pencils to return them into their designated pouch. Upon cleaning up her table, the (h/c) haired teen leans her back on the cushioned seat provided by the bistro, folding her arms across her chest. She raises an eyebrow at the boy, locking their gazes together. "Happy?"

Her good friend doesn't bother replying, placing her orders on the wooden table before taking a seat in front of her. He assumed the rest of the servers could handle the floor as there wasn't much costumers to begin with. The boy perched his chin on his palm whilst watching the girl gobble up her food with his honey brown eyes, observing her features and dishevelled outlook.

𝚄𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚊 • 𝙳𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚊 || Saiki KusuoWhere stories live. Discover now