Chapter Text
The life of Kris Dreemurr had been... uneventful. Nothing special. A wasted oppurtunity. Someone they were sure wouldn't be missed. In an endless sea of bright young adults, they were off drying up in the sand. Everything around them moved so quickly, so full of excitment, meanwhile they had stopped trying to keep up and match the energy years ago. Growing up in the middle of nowhere, desperate to leave behind Hometown and move to a new big city, only to drop out collage after a few months and live in a crummy, cheap apartment working in a convinience store had left them numb. It almost feels like they had already scewed up their already low chances of living a fufiling life.
Faint, rose-tinted memories of messing around with the neighboring kids, playing games and watching TV with their brother, eating their mother's cinnamon-butterscotch pie, happiness where had all of that gone? What could have possibly lead to their life turning out this dull. They could have never predicted that they would end up a sluggish collage drop-out, living off of minimum wage and their own landlords sympathy. How pathetic.
Leaving collage for no reason in particular only to regret it days later was such a stupid decision. To throw away such a privilige? To throw away a future so promising? A great university, a nice place to stay, ambitions and goals, hopes and dreams. Now they didn't even feel like getting out of bed. What a dumb decision. What would everyone back at home think when they eventually broke the news that they had thrown away their life for Angel knows why.
They try not to dwell on their miserable reality for too long, atleast not when they can help it. You'd think being a human in a mostly monster dominated space would leave someone with pleanty of stories and experiences that would make life interesting. Nope. Not them. The thought seems almost laughable. Almost. All they seemed to do was sway in the mundane winds of life. Alive but not living. Thank the Angel they don't work the night shift, that would surely drive them to the point of no return.
Walking back from work is always nice, atleast. It isn't a long walk to where they live, but a nice one, aleast they think so. The sky is cloudy, the sun is setting, there seems to be no one on streets. Something about this part of town, or maybe this time of year feels reminicent of Hometown. Late summer always seems to give them a cosy, nostalgic feeling, a warmth in their dull reality. Humming street lamps illuminating the thin, swirling fog around them, the nights getting longer, colder. The leaves are turning a pleasant shade of amber, the air crisp yet chilly; it reminds them of home. It reminds them of Azzy.
Kris does miss him, they really do, he is their brother after all. Azzy was always someone they had by their side, a constant in whatever their adolecent years had to throw at them. They love him, probably more than anyone else they've ever known. It's just that sometimes they can't help but feel a little... envious. A strange guilt overcomes them. Well, many others who lived in Hometown surely feel that way, right? It was Asriel for Angel's sake.
Asriel, the perfect son. Asriel, the golden boy. Asriel, who didn't drop out of collage for no reason in particular. Asriel, with perfect grades. Asriel, with a perfect smile. Asriel, who knows how to speak to people like a normal person. Asriel, who fits in. Asriel, who has friends. Asriel, who has a life. Asriel, who has a future. Asriel, who's happy.
How the hell did the two of them turn out so durastically different from eachother...
They try to shake their self-depricating thoughts. Atleast it's almost Friday. Well, Wednesday is close enough to Friday, isn't it? They hesitate. It... is Wednesday, right? Angel, could they not even remember the date? What a screw up. They scramble to take their phone out of their jean pocket. The screen lights up, revealing their cringey Dragon Blazers wallpaper, reading: August XX, Wednesday, 19:38. They wince at the '>10% battery' warning that pops up on their screen. Can they not even charge their phone? They'd have to do it when they get home. Sighing, they shut off their phone and stuff it back into their pocket, continuing the short walk back to their apartment.
Just a few more days, then you can sleep in they think to themself. The thought that they spent their weekends staying in bed and having nothing to do sure is... tolerable. It isn't particularly motivating to think that everyday they came to awful microwavable meals they secretly snagged from the convinience store's storage and watching trashy reruns of 'Mr Ant-Tennas TV Time' on their mothers ancient television that she didn't want anymore. How exciting. They just couldn't wait. Maybe they could go out this week? The very thought of being in a large, crowded space full of monsters staring at them, loud, garish music blasting out of every corner. It terriffies them. Perhaps they could go to church? Their mother had always drilled into their head that going to church was a good habit to have... they hadn't gone to church in years... Staying home it is. Anything's better than working they suppose. Being at home means being by themself, that thought lights a small spark somewhere deep in their chest. A spark that would no doubt be snuffed out the next day.
Kris keeps walking, nearing the street they lived on, if you could even consider their living situation living, thank the Angel, soon they would be in bed or sitting alone at their tiny kitchen table eating microwavable slop. The comfort their home provided was... an acquired taste. None the less, they would rather have it then nothing. Well, the thought of nothing seems more appealing right now than anything else. There was always one good part of any kitchen however, no matter how bad everything got, to matter how little they had in their pantries, the kitchen would always have one irresistable thing to offer. The idea made their inside feel all floaty from excitment. The knives.
Just then, snapping Kris out of their thoughts, they spot something out of the corner of their eye. A flicker of movement from... maybe a figure? It's clear as daylight that it was a person, standing considerably close behind them, almost like a shadow. The thought made their skin crawl and shoulders tense. Were they seeing things? It was only for only for a split second, just short enough to probably be chalked up to imagination or their Kris's undeniable lack of sleep. Still, they turn their head around and brush their tangled bangs out of their eyes and take a glance around them. Nothing. Nothing at all. Slightly embarrased, they turned their head back and continue walking in a slightly faster pace than they were previously. It was obviously just imagination. They always had such a vivid one growing up. Just got a little too caught up in their thoughts, thats all. They had barely been paying attention to what was happening around them anyway.
So little attention, in fact, that they had walked past their appartment.