After walking back inside, Alex made his way through the living room, passing the worn couch and the cluttered coffee table before heading past the kitchen on his left and down the hallway toward his room once again. The house creaked softly under his steps, a familiar sound he had long since stopped paying attention to.
After a quick shower, Alex grabbed a pair of black jeans from the chair in the corner, tossing his sweaty compression shirt and running shorts into a laundry bin without a second thought. He pulled on a new black compression shirt, tightened his belt, and slipped into his coat. The fabric was slightly worn, but still comfortable enough for daily use.
Alex had always liked the color black. It was simple, easy, and didn't require much thought in the mornings. Everything matched, everything worked, and he never had to stand there wondering what to wear like some people did.
His mom used to joke that he dressed like he was attending a funeral every day. He never really argued with that.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix it, then stopped halfway through and gave up entirely. It never stayed how he wanted it to anyway, so there wasn't much point in wasting time on it.
Grabbing his bag from the floor, he slung it over one shoulder and stepped back into the hallway. This time, he avoided the loose floorboard without even looking down, stepping over it out of pure habit.
The kitchen had quieted down by then. The earlier chaos had settled into the soft clinking of dishes, and while the burnt smell still lingered faintly, it had mostly been replaced by something far more edible.
"You heading out already?" his mom asked, not turning from the sink.
"Yeah," Alex replied, adjusting the strap of his bag. "If I stay any longer, you might try cooking something else."
She laughed under her breath. "Don't push your luck."
"I'm serious. It's a safety hazard at this point."
She turned slightly, giving him a look. "Didn't you just compliment my eggs?"
"It wasn't much of a compliment, I just said they were edible. That was shocking in and of itself."
That earned him a small shake of the head before she went back to what she was doing.
Alex paused for a moment near the doorway, glancing back at her. She looked the same as always, busy, a little tired, but steady in a way that made everything else feel normal.
"See you later," he said.
"Be careful," she replied automatically.
"I'm just going to school."
"Still counts."
He let out a quiet breath and stepped outside.
…
The street looked the same as it always did, with a few people already out and moving through their routines without much thought.
A man watered his lawn, a woman walked her dog a few houses down. Somewhere in the distance, a car door slammed, followed by the low hum of an engine starting up.
Alex adjusted his pace as he started walking, falling into an easy rhythm. It wasn't a long trip to school, he had no need to take the bus, plus, he was a runner, he was at the point where walking couldn't tire him out even after multiple miles.
His mind drifted the way it usually did in the mornings, jumping from one thought to another without really settling. School, assignments, whether or not he'd actually pay attention today it all blended together into familiarity.
By the time the school building came into view, he already felt bored.
Students gathered near the entrance in small groups, talking loudly, laughing about things that probably wouldn't matter by the end of the day. Nothing ever really changed, just the details.
Alex stepped inside, immediately met with the usual mix of noise and movement. Lockers slammed somewhere down the hall, voices overlapped into a constant hum, and the faint smell of cleaning supplies hung in the air like it always did.
For a moment, everything felt exactly the same as every other day.
And honestly, that was the most predictable part of all.
…
Alex had just reached his locker when a sudden weight dropped onto his shoulders from behind.
"Alexanderrrrr Morrrrros!"
Alex didn't even flinch.
"No need to be so loud this early in the morning dude, you're too much bro." he said flatly, adjusting slightly under the weight but not bothering to shrug it off yet.
Chuck leaned over him, grinning like he had just made the greatest entrance of all time.
"And you're slow. I've been waiting here for like five minutes."
"You got here thirty seconds ago."
"That's not the point."
Alex finally shifted, forcing Chuck off just enough to open his locker. "You say my full name one more time this early in the morning and I'm leaving."
Chuck gasped dramatically. "Wow. No appreciation. I give you a legendary name like Alexander Moros and this is how you treat me?"
"You didn't give it to me."
"I make it sound better."
"That's debatable."
Chuck leaned against the locker beside him, somehow incapable of standing still even for a few seconds. His foot tapped against the floor, fingers drumming lightly against the metal like he had too much energy and nowhere to put it.
"You run this morning?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"That explains it."
Alex shut his locker. "Explains what?"
"You look like… five percent more alive than usual." He said while squinting, as if scanning Alex with his thoughts.
"I'll take that as a win."
"You should. It's the best you're getting."
The hallway buzzed around them, students moving past in uneven waves, conversations overlapping into a constant hum.
"You have English first period, right?" Chuck asked.
"Unfortunately."
"Same," he said immediately, pushing himself off the locker. "Let's go suffer together."
Alex sighed. "I've been suffering since I woke up. My mom attempted to make pancakes again, I'm surprised out house is still standing." He chuckled.
"That bad?"
"I think if I ate them, I'd need a new set of teeth."
"That's impressive," Chuck said, clearly entertained. "She's evolving."
"Yeah but it's in the wrong direction. She made eggs after that, at least they were somewhat edible"
"That's good, I had bacon topped with bacon and some more bacon!"
"That's it? One hell of a diet dude, I'm sorry for your toilet."
"Shut up. I'm just a man who loves pig meat."
"..."
"What…"
"That came out wrong."
They laughed and started down the hall towards their English class as the first bell rang.
They slowed as they approached the classroom, a few students already gathered outside.
Chuck leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice just enough to sound dramatic.
"You ever think about just not going in? What are they gonna do, I'll take an unexcused absence to not go to this class."
Alex didn't even look at him. "Every day."
"And yet here we are." They sighed in sync.
The final bell rang, cutting through the hallway noise.
Chuck stretched his arms like he was about to start something exciting instead of walk into English class.
"Alright," he said, grinning. "Time to learn absolutely nothing."
Alex stepped forward, heading inside.
"Speak for yourself," he said. "I've mastered the art of doing nothing."
…
Alex stepped into the classroom, the familiar scent of dry-erase markers and old paper hitting him almost immediately. The room looked exactly the same as it always did, the rows of desks were slightly uneven, chairs scraped against the floor as people settled in, and the whiteboard already half-covered in writing from the previous day.
He made his way to his usual seat near the window, dropping his bag beside the desk before leaning back in his chair. From here, he could see outside just enough to distract himself when the lesson inevitably got boring, which, this far into the year, it would.
Chuck took the seat next to him, spinning his chair slightly before letting it drop flat against the ground.
"Best seats in the house," he said confidently.
"You say that every time."
"Because it's true every time."
Alex didn't respond, resting his head lightly against his hand as his eyes drifted toward the window. The sky was clear, the same pale blue it had been all morning, with a few clouds scattered far enough apart that they barely seemed worth noticing.
Same as always.
Students continued filing in, conversations overlapping into a steady background noise that filled the room without really saying anything important. Someone laughed too loudly in the back, a chair scraped harshly against the floor, and a backpack hit the ground with a dull thud somewhere off to the side.
Everything was normal.
Their teacher walked in a moment later, setting a stack of papers down on the desk at the front of the room before turning toward the class.
"Alright, everyone, settle down. Sit in your chairs and quiet down."
A few people listened.
Most didn't.
Chuck leaned slightly toward Alex. "Think we're actually doing anything interesting today?"
"No."
"Yeah, me neither."
Alex let his eyes drift again, not really focusing on anything in particular as the teacher started talking. Words filled the room, something about reading, analysis, maybe an assignment, but none of it stuck long enough to matter.
He'd heard it all before.
Same structure. Same tone. Same everything.
For a moment, everything felt exactly the way it always did.
Predictable.
Repetitive.
Safe.
Life was the same it always had been. Alex couldn't wait to graduate and finally make his life mean something.
...
Alex frowned.
His eyes drifted away from the front of the room and toward the window again, more out of habit than anything else.
The sky looked the same.
Mostly.
He stared at it for a second longer than usual.
Something felt off, though he couldn't immediately place what it was. The color wasn't wrong, not exactly, but it didn't feel as bright as it had earlier that morning.
Like it had dulled somehow.
The lights flickered.
Just once.
Quick enough that most people didn't even react.
A few students glanced up, confused, before immediately losing interest.
"Did that just—?"
"Probably nothing," someone muttered.
"No talking while I'm talking. Lights flicker, it happens sometimes. Back to the passage. The author uses diction here to emphasize—"
Alex didn't look away from the window.
His chest rose slowly as he took a breath.
The air felt a bit heavier.
Not enough to be alarming, but just enough to notice.
He shifted again, sitting up slightly this time.
"…you'll need to have this read by tomorrow," the teacher continued, though her voice sounded just a little more distant than before.
Chuck leaned slightly closer. "You feel that?" he muttered under his breath, his tone was quieter than usual.
Alex didn't answer right away.
He was still looking outside.
The sky hadn't changed.
But it didn't feel right.
For a moment, everything held.
The classroom. The noise. The routine. The same as it had always been.
Then the lights flickered again.
Longer this time.
"Something's wrong," Alex said suddenly, pushing himself up from his desk.
"THE SKY!" A student shouted. "IT"S PURPLE?!"