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03 | Black Out
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2024-12-21 20:20:48December 3rd
I wake up with James’s arm around my waist and his breath warm on my neck. Facing the windows, I immediately notice the snow falling outside. I smile, feeling the festive joy bubble inside me. Carefully, I move his arm off my waist and slip out from under the covers, instantly shivering. Trying not to make a sound, I grab one of his hoodies for warmth and quietly leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I yawn as I head downstairs to the kitchen, silently praying I don’t trip on the stairs—not this morning, at least.
I prepare the pancake batter, and as I start cooking, I set the kettle and the coffee machine going. My plan is to serve breakfast in bed for James, though considering my clumsiness, I decide to take it up in small batches. When everything’s ready, I place a tray on James’s bedside table, followed by the plates of pancakes, and finally, the mugs of hot drinks. Once all is safely in pl
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I swing open the wooden door leading to the kitchen, grab one of the chairs around the table, and turn it to sit astride it. I look up to meet my parents' gaze, which was already fixed on me. "I need money," I start.My father raises an eyebrow. "How much?"I look at him. This is the moment he's going to kill me. "A little money..." I take a moment while he waits for my answer. "Something like a hundred or two hundred-"My father interrupts immediately with, "I'm broke." He returns to reading the newspaper he had left on the table during my entrance.My mother hasn't said a word yet. She continues to stare at me, and I must admit it's becoming unsettling. "Did you get yourself into trouble with some drug dealer and owe them money?" she asks.I roll my eyes. "No, but-"Before I can finish, she interrupts me. "Are you in trouble in general?""No m-" I'm interrupted again."Are you risking your life if we don't give you this money?" she continues.Oh God, this conversation will never end
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Before heading home, I stopped at the small supermarket a couple of blocks from my house.As soon as I walked in, the air conditioning hit me like a blast of cold air from the North Pole.I get it—summer, heat, and all that—but turning a supermarket into a freezer in mid-June seems a bit excessive, doesn't it? What are they going to do in August? Try to freeze themselves to escape "heat depression"?I didn't even grab a cart since I only needed one thing: ice cream. My parents love ice cream.I ponder which flavors to get. My dad's favorite is cookie, while my mom's is mint. I grab one tub of each flavor, and while I'm at it, I also pick up my favorite—coconut. I head to the checkout, pay, and ask for one of those insulated bags to keep the ice cream from turning into a milkshake on the way home.I return home, open the door, and close it behind me, placing the keys on the table next to the door.No sign of my parents.I take the ice cream tubs to the kitchen and put them in the freez
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A deafening sound interrupts my beautiful dream. It takes me a moment to realize that the sound is coming from that infernal contraption more commonly known as an alarm clock.I want to throw it against the wall, but my mother would do the same to me, and that idea doesn't thrill me at all.I turn off the alarm and roll over, hoping to fall back asleep. Then I remember what day it is.Shit, today is Monday. It's my first day at work.I jump out of bed and grab some clothes at random from the chair, which has become my new wardrobe.I just hope the shirt isn't dirty.I dash down the stairs and head to the kitchen to grab something to eat. I see my mom already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in her hands."Why didn't you wake me up earlier knowing I start work today?" I ask her.She looks at me and raises an eyebrow perfectly drawn with an eyebrow pencil.It's my mom, and she does her makeup better than I do, damn it."You said you were becoming responsible, Brianna. So it's a
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The ringtone of my phone interrupts the silence of my room. I look at the screen and see that it's Carly, my best friend.I swipe the green icon to answer the call.I don't even get a chance to say "hello" before she starts talking."Tonight you and I are going dancing. I want to see you in a dress and heels. We'll get ready at my place and then walk to the Hunter so we can drink since we won't need to drive. No arguments. I'll pick you up at nine," and she hangs up.I couldn't have found a stranger best friend.I put the phone back where it was before, that is, thrown somewhere on my bed. As far as my first day went, it wasn't too bad, aside from James and the fact that I wasn't even looking for a job. I'm tempted to prepare some fake medical documents stating my insanity or that I have an extremely contagious and deadly disease, then bring them to work and leave them sticking out of my bag and wait for James to read them. Just to pass the time and get some revenge. Yesterday, he gav
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Today is my second day of work, a job I've been looking forward to.After last night's "incident" with the heels, Carly and I ended up heading home because of the storm that rolled in. Nothing new, just my bad luck reminding me who runs my life. Convincing her to postpone our night of drinking until we mistook street lamps for celebrities, taking selfies with them, and posting them all over our social media with the caption "OMG, I finally met a star, so excited!"—only to be mocked for eternity—was a challenge.Basically, it was going to be a fantastic evening.We spent the rest of the night watching Pretty Little Liars and gaining at least ten pounds from all the junk food we devoured together.I grab one of my completed sketchbooks and put it in my bag. I don't have a preferred subject or style; my sketchbooks contain drawings of animals, landscapes, portraits of people, abstract subjects, plants. Watercolors, charcoal, and pencils alternate. Everything that inspires me ends up in o
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Once we leave the store, James heads towards a parking lot, and I follow him, unsure of which ice cream shop we're going to.Each passing day is getting hotter, like a hellish inferno. Like after a couple of hours under the sun, you might catch fire, so people can gather around you with sticks and roast marshmallows.Yes, because of course, people roast marshmallows on people who are on fire.When we reach the parking lot, James confidently approaches a black car. He opens it and gets in, inviting me to do the same.As soon as I get in, I reach for the radio, but he slaps my hand away and gives me a stern look."I don't mean to be rude, but don't touch my baby."I look at him, bewildered. I try to reach for the radio again, but he slaps my hand once more.I whip my head around to face James. "If I can't touch your radio, can you at least put on some music yourself?" I grumble.He glances at me briefly, then returns his focus to the road. He takes his right hand off the steering wheel
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"Cookie and coconut.""I don't like coconut. Choose another flavor," James tells me."Who's eating the ice cream?" I reply."But I have to taste it.""I don't like the cream flavor you chose, yet I'm not complaining. It looks like I'll just eat the other flavor. Would you change one of your flavors just because I don't like it?""No.""There you go.""Why coconut, though?""Because it's my favorite flavor.""Terrible flavors."
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The first week of work has finally passed, and the weekend is here, which means I can finally sleep in.They call it vacation, but then they load you with a ton of work, you have to work because you're unlucky, you risk losing a lung after ten meters of walking due to the heat, and you dream of the sea because your parents prefer the mountains. And anyway, I'd stay whiter than a mozzarella. Long live albinism.When I wake up, I notice it's only ten in the morning. Too early by my standards, but I was woken up by some screams, which I hope are my mom's, because if they were my dad's, they'd have had to lock his balls in a drawer to scream like that, and I hope for his sake that's not the case.I get out of bed and put on my panda slippers, which look a bit like those gian
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Latest chapter
Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you 03 | Black Out
December 3rdI wake up with James’s arm around my waist and his breath warm on my neck. Facing the windows, I immediately notice the snow falling outside. I smile, feeling the festive joy bubble inside me. Carefully, I move his arm off my waist and slip out from under the covers, instantly shivering. Trying not to make a sound, I grab one of his hoodies for warmth and quietly leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I yawn as I head downstairs to the kitchen, silently praying I don’t trip on the stairs—not this morning, at least.I prepare the pancake batter, and as I start cooking, I set the kettle and the coffee machine going. My plan is to serve breakfast in bed for James, though considering my clumsiness, I decide to take it up in small batches. When everything’s ready, I place a tray on James’s bedside table, followed by the plates of pancakes, and finally, the mugs of hot drinks. Once all is safely in pl
Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you 02 | Snowman
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The next chapters are a Christmas novella set from December 1st to 25th. The events take place years after the conclusion of the main story.PLOT:James Reid never really believed in bad luck, yet he had to change his mind the moment Brianna Lester became part of his life. Everything that can be considered absurd or go wrong is just normal for Brianna. And yet, in December, everyone is a little kinder—but will bad luck follow suit? James and Brianna plan to celebrate Christmas with their families in their new home. He hopes for a Christmas miracle, while she’s already thinking about what to gift her bad luck. Will theirs be a miraculous Christmas or a Christmas of misfortune?
Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you Special - I want to live every day and all the days
Five years later...I’m lying diagonally on the bed with my head resting on James's stomach, which keeps making strange noises. "James, honey, just so you know, if you're hungry, you can go down to the kitchen."My boyfriend makes a face. "But your parents are downstairs. It embarrasses me to go down and act like it’s my house."I prop myself up on my elbows and raise my torso to look James in the face. "Are you serious? We’ve been together for over seven years. Seven! You practically have residency here. You even have a group chat with my parents where you exchange embarrassing photos of me, and you still have the nerve to be embarrassed."James puts a hand on my face and pushes me back down onto his stomach. "These are trivial details, Brianna."In response, I lick his hand to make him remove it. "Do you want me to walk you downstairs while holding your hand too?" I tease.James grimaces. "No, be
Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you Special - Happy birthday
“Happy Birthday, Love!”“Happy birthday, love!” James yells in my ear.I mumble irritably, turning over in bed and burying my face in the pillow.“Do you remember what day it is today?”I blindly move my left hand until I find his face. “Shh. Go back to sleep.” I then press my hand against his forehead to make him lie down.He stands up and comes to my side of the bed. “You need to get up.”I take the blankets and pull them up over my head. “I need to sleep.”James huffs. “You need to move your ass and get up.”I poke my head out from under the blankets and turn onto my left side to see him better. “I’m sorry for you, but I never learned how to twerk. I’m not as good as my grandmothers.”James stares at me without blinking.I stare back at him, waiting for a reaction.I shouldn’t have done that.
Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you 40 | Never go to the tattoo artist if bad luck is following you.
A year and a half later.I watch little Jeremy staring at me curiously while he has his fist in his mouth, drooling like a Saint Bernard. He’s lying on the changing table, waiting for me to put a clean diaper on him.How was it done again? The YouTube videos make it seem so easy...“Well, little one, what if I took you to church naked? You’re so small; kids get forgiven for everything.”“Do you really want to let him go around naked?” James leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. “You don’t remember how to put on a diaper, do you?”I give him a dirty look. “Don’t stare at me like that. It’s difficult, okay?”“He’s been home for months, and you still haven’t learned?”I throw a clean diaper at him. “Why don’t you do it?”James catches the diaper in midair and approac
Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you 39 | The next time, I will read you like a roast.
JAMESI feel a foot come down on my backside rather unceremoniously.I groan in pain and try to move away, but as I turn, I fall off the bed.I snap my eyes open and sit up, massaging my cheek.I look at Brianna lying diagonally, taking up the entire bed.The passion for sumo hasn't faded.I hate waking up with her nearby because she always pushes me out of bed.Literally.I decide to take revenge.I go to Connor's room and grab one of those stadium horns, then I return to my room.I bring it close to Brianna's face and blow.She screams in fright, and I, not expecting that reaction, scream in fright too, and Mrs. Porter, my neighbor, screams in fright as well.Once we've all calmed down, Brianna looks at me in shock. "Let me get this straight, how many times did you fall off your high chair when you were little?"I give her a dirty look. "Only twice, unlike you."She n
Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you 38 | Do you want to be my magnet for bad luck?
I'm about to have a heart attack.My breathing is quick, my hands are shaking, I feel a trickle of sweat running down my forehead, and I'm sure my face is pale.Paler than usual, that is.James asked me out on a real date, and when I read the message, my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. The date is at his house—thank goodness at least one of us knows how to cook—and I have no idea how it’s going to go.But that's not why I'm anxious. When I got James's message, I was in the kitchen with my parents, and when they saw me smiling at the screen, they asked me what was going on.But now my only question is: why did I tell my mom that the date would be at his house?Now, after calling Julie and discussing our "relationship," she's convinced we’re going to end up rolling around in the sheets since we’ll have the house to ourselves all weekend.But we haven't even rea
