the golden boy || Muke

Normal. Chapter 2.

Sleeping in the back seat of his car did not make Michael's back any good. Michael may only be 23 years old but he had back problems like a 70 years old. He got dressed outside of the car, wearing the same clothes as the day before. But Michael could not care less. He never leaves his office anyway.

Michael sprayed some after shave on himself and then took a chewing gum. He had a lot of things that is good to have in the car when you suddenly have to leave your house and not come home over night. He never knew why but he was thankful of himself now.

The sun was starting to wake up as well, and so did all the birds. It was really quiet where he was sitting on his hoodie on the ground just listening to the comforting bird sounds.

His alarm went off. Time to leave for work. Michael got in his car and twisted his special designed purple car key. Matching his galaxy hair. He turned the volume up on his car radio and plugged his phone to his car charger. Michael made a U-turn and drove on the old road, towards the big road leading to the city. Michael looked down on his knuckles on the steering wheel. Still swollen and he had dried blood all over his hands. He could not care less.

He parked his car on the same spot as always. He got out and took the same elevator as always. The one to the right. Because the one to the left always smelled like fish for some odd reason. The hotel Michael owned was a big and modern hotel. 130 rooms, each floor had a different colour theme. Floor one, red. Floor two, blue. Floor three, green. Floor four, black. Floor five, Michael's favourite, purple. Dark purple. Like the bruises on his skin after a heartbreak.

He greeted the same receptionist as always, Gretel. A lovely woman with strong opinions. She was dressed in her white shirt, black west and black suit trousers. He walked over to the normal coffee machine, the one to the left. It always made better drinks. Michael pressed the hot chocolate button. Michael may be 23 years old but he did not like the bitter taste of coffee in the morning. He took the right elevator to floor five. He walked through the corridors with his pitch black cup with hot chocolate, ignoring the staff. He do not know any of them. He do not care enough to even try to get to know them. No one likes him anyway.

He opened his door with his access card and closed it. He put his pitch black cup down on his desk with a cup coaster underneath it. He followed his normal routine. He gave his beautiful red roses water. They were blood red. The same colour as the blood on his skin after a heartbreak. Michael then walked over to his curtains and opened up for the morning sun to shine through his big window that went all the way from the floor to the sealing. He stood on his normal spot watching the small city slowly come alive. More movement. More life.

Paper work went faster than normal. Michael was focused today. Surprisingly. He had made some calls to a few companies, written at least 10 000 words in documents and had four more cups of chocolate. In the last one he added some cream it to make it perfect.

With one hour left of his shift he looked at apartments. He is moving out of the house he and Angela bought two years ago when they planned to have a child. Miscarriage. Twice. The thought of his ex-girlfriend made him change the computer background to a picture of Gerard Way. Michael would not call it a crush. Because he is straight. But he is really attracted to the lead singer. But he is straight.

Michael went back to looking at apartments. He liked a few of them and did send interest reports. Three apartments to be exact. One top floor apartment with two rooms and two bathrooms. One with five rooms and a small kitchen. One with one room and a big kitchen. Michael put his pitch black cup down on the desk and rested his back against the back rest of his really comfortable chair. He turned his computer off and thought it was over for today. He had nowhere to go though.

Michael saw a pen and an empty paper. Michael loved drawing. He started to draw some small and weird figures. They looked more like monsters. He started to draw a bigger figure. He made some lines, it started to look like a portrait of someone. When Michael felt done he looked down on his paper with a small smile.

Under the messy but stylish drawing of a stranger he wrote with all capitals.

THE GOLDEN BOY.

♡♡♡