Chapter Text
"I left Calabasas, escaped all the ashes, ran into the dark, and it made me wild, wild, wild at heart."
-Lana Del Rey
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Hope- what is it?
Is it a wish? A desire? An expectation? Trust in something impossible?
Is it completely dependent on the outcome of said trust, or the process of putting your faith into something so outrageous, so exorbitant, that anyone would call you crazy? You think about these things often. Wondering about your purpose on Earth is something everyone thinks about.
Unfortunately, there isn't much time to ponder at the moment, as you're being laid off right now.
"Here we are, Mx. [Reader], is it?" A voice speaks.
And currently, hope is one of the many things you are now out of.
Snapping out of your brief haze, you speak up in a light tone, "Ah- yes, that's me!" You're sure she can sense your nervousness.
You meet the eyes of the woman sitting in front of you. They're a pretty moss green with long, dark eyelashes, perfectly complementing her curly, auburn hair. The corners of her mouth lift into the typical corporate smile, a tool used to survive in an environment where emotions are synonymous with weakness.
The woman leans down to reach a drawer in her desk, and you look around the small room. The walls are a pristine grayish-blue, with a painting of a white Persian cat hanging just above where the lady is sitting. A small ceiling fan above you whirs quietly, adding a biting chill to the already cold room. She rummages around in the drawer before pulling out a few sheets of paper. She quickly flips through them with such speed you doubt she's even reading them.
"I assume you already know why you're here?" She asks coolly, breaking the heavy silence.
"...Yes. I'm being laid off." You say as you anxiously fidget with your shaky fingers, trying to keep yourself from breaking down on the spot.
"Well, I wouldn't put it that way, think of it as us letting you go- freeing you to do whatever your heart desires." She says evenly.
You deadpan. Making the best of a life-ruining situation doesn't exactly lift your spirits when your only source of income is being torn away from you, and you're sure she doesn't mean most of what she said.
The lady clears her throat and avoids your gaze, taking the hint.
"Uhm- just sign here, here, and here," she says, pointing to a few lines on each page. She hands you a pen, and you scribble your signature. She snatches the papers from you as soon as you set your pen down on the table, hungrily taking in the sight of your writing. She freezes, realizing how silly she must look, and quickly regains her composure before speaking. "Alright then, if you have your things packed and your cubicle cleared out, you are free to go."
You sigh and rub your head, too tired to be upset about this yet. The woman pauses, as if mulling something over. "Hey... I'm sorry this is happening to you, truly. From what the company records say, you were a good employee. Honestly, everyone is getting laid off right now... if it makes you feel any better." She hesitantly mutters. Your eyes widen, surprised by the sudden change in tone. At least she has enough decency to give you some sort of comfort.
You give her a small, defeated smile and murmur your thanks. She gives you a sympathetic upturn of the lips and waves you goodbye. You get up from your chair and push it in as you grab your box full of items from your cubicle. It really wasn't anything special- a few fake plants and a picture of your pet were what decorated your otherwise drab working space.
You let out another sigh.
How did this even happen?
This all feels so surreal. You were a good employee- a good person- who did everything you were asked of and more. Countless hours were worked in mostly unpaid overtime, just to lessen your and sometimes even others' workload. You were the perfect victim of corporate greed.
I did everything right.
Tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes, and you take a deep breath. Save it for the apartment, you think.
You walk to the elevator numbly, limbs heavy with exhaustion as your finger finds the ground floor button on instinct. Your stomach does little flips as you feel the elevator begin to move.
What am I going to do now?
You scour your thoughts, desperately trying to think of something you could at least do while looking for another job. Maybe I could apply for another office job like this... oh dear, but that'll take ages to find... Oh! I know! I could probably work at that burger joint down the street!... well... maybe not... I've heard the manager is a weirdo. Your skin crawls at the idea.
Your thoughts come to a halt as the elevator stops. The doors slide open and you trudge out, feeling a headache beginning to form at the base of your skull. You open the doors to the building, the cold night air hitting your skin and giving you goosebumps. Your apartment was only 2 blocks away, so you always just walked to work.
The night was bustling in the city, with commotion and noise lining the streets. You hurry your way along the sidewalk, passing by a group of drunk college students making their way to their dorms- or somewhere, at least. You wish you had finished college instead of taking that awful office job. You come to a stop as you reach the end of the block and press the button on the side of the pedestrian signal next to you. A cool breeze whips through the air, making the city much chillier than it already is. You regret leaving your sweater at home. You clutch the box of small items closer to your chest, trying to maintain some semblance of warmth while you wait. Suddenly, your eyes snap up as the white walking signal replaces the red hand. That's your cue.
Your feet meet hard asphalt as you jog forward, determined to get out of the bone-chilling cold and back to your warm apartment to feed your pet. Your steps fall quickly against the crosswalk when suddenly, a bright light floods your vision.
You whip around, startled, and see a car barreling toward you, the sound of its engine ripping through the air. Before you can do anything, the ground underneath you disappears as you feel the impact of the car sending you hurtling into the air. Your box of stuff flies out of your hands, and an awful pain tears through your abdomen, pure agony consuming every nerve in your body as if you're being cursed by the devil itself. An additional dull pain flares in the back of your head as you hit the ground. You can't scream or move, and there's a harsh ringing in your ears that gets louder by the second. The cool breeze of the night is gone; the only feeling you can register is the white-hot pain that blooms through every atom of your body.
You lie there for what feels like hours, your suffering lasting seemingly for ages. And slowly but surely, the pain begins to ebb away. As you feel your body shutting down, an unusual wave of peacefulness washes over you. You're content with how your life panned out. Of course, it wasn't perfect; no one's life is, and maybe it wasn't as good as it could have been, but you still made room for joy. Each new day promised something new and exciting, studded with endless possibilities like the infinite number of stars that dot the night sky.
That's what kept you going- through all the pain and heartbreak, the unknowingness of the future and the potential it brought made you want to try.
And you did.
At least now you won't have to worry about that- or anything- anymore.
You let out a soft exhale as your thoughts settle into a gentle wave of nothingness. You feel your consciousness softly drift away, ebbing into a peaceful darkness and embracing your final moments of life.
This was it.
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A light breeze caresses your face.
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Huh?
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You wiggle your fingers and feel hard concrete under you.
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What?
Your eyes fly open, and you're immediately met with the sight of the night sky stretching above you, stars loosely dotting its expanse. Right away, you notice the lack of immense pain in your abdomen.
What the hell?
You raise your hands off the ground and feel around your torso. You're wearing the same short-sleeved shirt and sweatpants that you had put on that morning in your apartment, with absolutely no sign of injury. Your brows knit together in confusion.
What is going on?
You push yourself upright, putting your weight on the palms of your hands as you look around.
It appears that you're in a dimly lit alleyway, much like the ones that you walk by at home.
Home.
I need to get back to the apartment.
You turn your head as a soft glow to your side catches your attention, and your jaw drops. Just outside of the alley is a city that heavily resembles... Tokyo? Maybe just a bit less extravagant. You gape at the tall skyscrapers and buildings that surround you, taking in the beauty of this unfamiliar city.
This was definitely not home.
The longer you look, the more you notice. There are a few cranes that you can just barely make out against the dark skyline, along with several bridges that join some of the buildings together. The architecture of the buildings is jumbled, and satellite dishes dot a few of the buildings' rooftops; one building even has what seems to be a greenhouse sitting on top of it. Neon signs light up the city, giving it an ethereal glow. Sirens echo in the distance, joined by voices echoing in from outside the alley.
Wait- people?
Suddenly, someone walks by and pauses right in front of the alley, and your stomach drops. You let out a silent breath of relief as they crouch down, only to tie their shoe. You relax slightly as you realize that the shadows of the alley make you practically invisible to those on the outside, providing a dark cloak of safety. You narrow your eyes, inspecting the person a few feet away from you. They wear heavy, black cargo pants lined with at least 10 pockets. Chains hang from a huge belt that's adorned with sharp spikes and a huge silver buckle that wraps around the hem of their pants. An oversized shirt loosely sags over their body with some unrecognizable logo on the front of it, coupled with a few chain necklaces swinging from their neck. A pair of shades rests upon two lime green horns-
Hold on.
Lime green horns?
What the hell?
You shake your head and blink a few times. That can't be right. You're probably just traumatized from being hit by a car. There's no way in hell this person actually has horns. You rub your eyes and squint as you take a second look, and sure enough, a pair of bright, lime green horns perch on the sides of their head. They're relatively small, curling forward in a soft upwards arc that ends just above the top of their head. They finish tying their shoe and walk off.
Why do they have horns?
And who wears sunglasses at night?
You feel your blood run cold.
Where the hell are you?
The feeling of cold dampness underneath you brings you back to reality as you feel the wetness from the concrete seeping through your pants. You cringe and gingerly stand up to dust yourself off, turning around to pat down your backside. Pausing, you take a minute to evaluate your situation.
You are in an unfamiliar environment, with unfamiliar people who have horns. You're not sure if you're in the afterlife, or a whole other world, or an alternate reality, or in hell- or something. You groan as you pinch the bridge of your nose. I absolutely cannot afford to spiral right now. For now, I gotta figure out what the hell I'm going to do. I should probably look around before I do anything.
You straighten up and take a careful step forward, senses alert in case something ambushes you from behind a dumpster- or something like that, at least. You tiptoe carefully towards the lights of the city, hoping the darkness of the alleyway continues to hide you from the horned people. Placing your hand on the brick wall beside you, you slowly peer out to get a better look at the city. Restaurants, clubs, stores, and other buildings are squished together in a typical city-like fashion. The streets are teeming with life, residents walking around, talking, and having fun with each other. Everything is bathed in a warm glow from the lights of signs and windows scattered across the buildings. You squint your eyes at the individuals walking around. They all have horns of different shapes, sizes, and colors decorating their heads.
Are these just humans with horns? Or are they a whole other species? What if I'm the only person here who doesn't have them? What will they do if they see me? Dear God- how am I even here? I'm supposed to be dead!
You shake your head, interrupting the upsetting train of thoughts in your mind.
I can't think about this shit right now! I need to keep a positive mindset... or at least try.
For once, you're the odd one out, and the biggest giveaway of that is your obvious lack of horns. You turn around and scan the alleyway for anything that can help you. A small, bright shape catches your eye a few feet away from you. You look closer, and you see a small beanie dangling off a wooden post sticking out of a garbage can.
Gross. Well, it's better than nothing!
You walk over to it and gingerly pluck it from the trash. You inspect the hat lying in your hands, dusting it off a bit. It looks decently clean and doesn't even smell that bad for something that's been in the garbage for god-knows-how-long. You pull it over your head, adjusting it to make it seem as though you're covering your (nonexistent) horns.
A soft smile slowly etches itself onto your face as you clasp your hands together.
I might actually have a shot at surviving this place.
Turning around, you face the exit of the alley and momentarily close your eyes.
Calm yourself.
You can handle this just as well as any situation back at home.
You open your eyes and take a step forward, determination flooding through your veins. Preparing yourself to face whatever lies outside of this alleyway, you take in a slow, deep breath.
You can do this because you have hope.
After all, hope is a dangerous thing for someone like you to have- but you have it anyway.