COPYCAT

ONE

MATT

"Matt! It's your turn to go to the store with Edd!" A gruff British accent called from the living room.

A slightly higher pitched British accent called back from the bathroom, "Alright, Tom, I'll be down in a moment!"

The bathroom mirror was occupied by a handsome ginger man, his baby blue eyes staring at his face in the mirror. He had a bright smile on his lips, and he finished cleaning up, drying his face on the green hand towel hanging next to the sink.

His name is Matthew Hardgroves, age twenty-three, a certified narcissist of the Goldheart household. Though, even through his vanity, he loved his three friends more than anyone else. He smiled at the thought of going to the store with his best friend, Edd. No one else ever wanted to accompany the artist to get groceries, so Matt would often volunteer.

He swiped his short-sleeved green overcoat off of the bathroom coat hanger and slipped it on over his purple hoodie. He was wearing one of his thinner made hoodies today, as it was rather warm outside. Matt, however, never wore anything but his signature bright blue jeans. Anything else made him feel weird.

He left the bathroom and went down the hallway, passing another one of his friends. He had a red t-shirt on, and his caramel blond hair stuck up like two horns in the front.

"Good morning, Matt." The blond boy said, a deep Norwegian accent lacing his voice. Matt giggled and waved in greeting. Usually, the Norse wasn't one to be cheerful, or polite in that matter. But when he was, Matt took advantage of it.

"Morning, Tord!" He replied, for once getting his name correct. They shared a smile before Matt rushed off again to find Edd.

Tord Larksong was another one of Edd's friends that had moved in with the boys a while back. He was from Norway and was ultimately the quietest of them all.

And he was a communist. No one would ever let him forget that. Especially not-

"Tom, what have we talked about?" A soft, yet stern voice rose through the kitchen, and there stood to more men. The brunette who was scolding the other turned to see Matt enter the kitchen. His mood shifted, "Oh, good morning, Matt! Are you ready to go out?"

This was Edward Goldheart, the grad of the household. He sported a large green hoodie over his rather large build, and he was the tallest out of all the men. He had gentle, chocolatey brown eyes, and his hair was of the same shade. Edd was often cheerful, and also loved his friends dearly, as they were like his family. Though he also loved his cola, almost equally as much as the other boys.

"He better be ready, he's been 'getting ready' for over half an hour." The shortest Brit grumbled, and he rolled his black eyes, "I'm not gonna let Edd wait any longer for ya, Matt."

Lastly was Thomas Rosenwood, a certifiable pessimist. He was the shortest in the house, but he definitely had the most bite. He wore a blue hoodie and torn black jeans, and his ears were littered with black piercings. His hair was a sandy blond, and his eyes were pure black, even the sclera. He didn't quite get along with anyone but Edd, particularly despising Tord.

He also had an alcohol problem.

"Oh be quiet, Thomas. This conversation is not over." Edd snapped at him, referring to the large bottle of Smirnoff the Brit had opened just moments earlier. Edd was fine with him drinking, but not at nine in the morning. "And I'm taking this with us."

The brunette snatched the bottle off of the counter and started for the side door. He signaled for Matt to follow him, and the ginger obliged, grabbing the car keys from the keyring.