Ash & Ichor [Friends with the King of the Underworld rewrite]

f o u r

//song: smoke and mirrors - agnes obel

A loud bell woke me from my dreams.

I groaned, annoyed and reached for my phone on my nightstand. I looked at the text messages on my phone and cursed out loud.

Damn it, Damien. He was always such a morning person.

I dropped my phone on the mattress next to me and yawned. I raised my hands above my head and stretched across the stiff comforter.

The phone rang again. I picked it up and texted Damien back.

Yes, I'm awake, give me twenty minutes.

I placed my glasses on my nose from the nightstand and moved to my closet. I picked out the clothes for the day. A comfortable grey sweater for the ridiculously cold music hall and long dark jeans.

Damien appeared when I was running the last brush through my long mousy brown hair after showering and changing.

"Good morning!"

I glared at his reflection in my mirror. "You're too cheerful for this early in the morning."

He laughed. "Did I wake you?"

I sighed as I patted powder under my dull brown eyes. Dull to me, despite what my mother always claimed.

I always wished I had her green eyes. Instead, I had my father's dark brown.

"I could have slept another hour," I responded. "I'll just make it extra early to practice, that's all."

He frowned. "Practice again?"

I nodded as I put the finishing touches on my concealer. I hated that I had to use so much on my faded acne scars from when I was a teenager. "Art show tonight remember?" I nodded towards the ticket on my dresser. "That's yours if you want to go. Mom and Dad are going to be there, too."

He picked up the crisp paper in his large, thin hand. An old army injury on his dark wrist peeked out form under his long sleeve. He frowned as he looked the ticket over. "A new art installation?"

I nodded as I moved to the light switch and flipped it off. "It's a small art gallery, the grand opening is tonight with the artist." He followed me down the hall and down the stairs to the kitchen.

I shrugged. "I know it might be boring but you'll get to listen to me play."

I looked back and Damien and laughed at how he scrunched up his nose.

I waved my hand as I continued down the hall and down the stairs. "Yeah, I know, okay, you've never liked art. But there will be free food."

The hall at the bottom of the stairs opened to the living room and dining room. I moved to the end of large open floor plan to the kitchen.

When I turned into the kitchen, Damien was already there, sitting on one of the counters reading the cereal box I was about to pour into a bowl.

He handed me the box as I grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. He smiled. "Anything for free food and you're playing is not so bad." I heard him mumble his next words. "Well, not anymore."

I laughed, thinking of all the times when I first started playing my cello and I sat Damien down in front of me to show off what I had learned.

The first year I picked up the cello I had been terrible but throughout the years with dedication and practice I was able to become one of the best in my district. I even received a scholarship to help with some of the college costs. I joined the college orchestra and was able to push through the ranks and become second chair while I was a sophomore.