Bianca

Let's get something straight.

I, Bianca Calson - not White - am more fond of sleep than I am of humanity itself.

Could you really blame me?

How many times have Humans proved to be awful little shits? I mean, our entire history is basically us just continuously fucking up. Our world was literally so sinned that God decided to drown like all of the population. When people came over to the new world, we actually killed the natives from a disease we'd brought. The United States wasn't even a thing at first because King George was selfish. John Booth shot Lincoln when he was trying to enjoy a damn show. Hitler did the whole attempt at world domination. Somebody atomic bombed a whole fucking city. Kim Jong Un having a party over there in South Korea with his shiny new weapons. Jay-Z cheated on Beyoncé. The Vampire Diaries literally went on for seasons without Elena.

People are just wrecks.

And then there's sleep. Not once, has sleep ever done me wrong, not in my entire seventeen years of existence. It's loyal, unwavering, kind, gentle, and peaceful. In all honesty, it's probably the only thing I'll ever love unconditionally forever.

Sleep is just one of those things that I need in order to be a human being for the world. If I'm deprived of it, I'm not exactly some flower child that dances around while singing songs played from their ukulele. Hell, I'm pretty sure the only time I'd ever do that was if I was high.

It's no secret that I'm not the best morning person in Accrington, but when my sleep is messed with, I can only get worse.

Perhaps in another dimension there's a version of Bianca that actually doesn't mind having her hours of sleep cut down, one that doesn't bite your head off in the mornings, and glare at anyone and everything while growling as she goes for her morning coffee. But here is not another dimension, and when I say I do those things, the level of exaggeration is very small.

So you can only imagine the mood I'm in when someone interrupts my sleep.

I'm bordering on homicidal.

It takes me a few seconds to realize that I'm beginning to wake up, stirring from my previous peaceful and beloved slumber. Within the first few seconds of consciousness, my ears pick up the noise that's around me. Confusion is the first thing that crosses my groggy mind as it tries to interpret the sounds around me while simultaneously trying to convince me to go back to sleep. I feel the muscles of my face arrange themselves into a frown on instinct, unhappy despite not even being awake enough to fully know why.

My brain begins to run a lazy assessment of possibilities, wanting to find the source of the clamor in an effort to seek the reason why I was being brought out of R.E.M. when my internal clock tells me it's not even morning.

My mother could have come in to say goodbye before her early shift for work. But surely she would have finished the farewells by now, and the weight of her lips on my forehead would've been something I felt.

My TV could have been another reason, though I didn't remember ever turning it on in the first place before going to bed and passing out. And if the noises had let me sleep through them all night then why would they wake me now?

My third idea was of an animal, but quickly hashed that seeing as one, our family didn't own any pets, and two, I severely doubt that any wildlife came in while I was sleeping.

So that left basically no explanation unless a ghost had materialized overnight and wanted to screw with me for vengeance.

I give a groan of irritation at the incessant noise, shifting around the bed as if sleeping in a different angle will cut it out. When I realize I'll probably need to wake up, I groan again before I shift some more, trying to prep my body to be up and alert, though failing miserably. I can move my legs and arms just fine, but the actions seem to be me procrastinating at actually forcing my eyelids open.

After a lot of effort, my eyes open to my dimly lit room, but it takes my vision a few moments to clear up before I actually see anything at all. And it's for that reason that I don't immediately recognize the fact that there's a fucking person in my room, and they're standing right by my bed.

Acting on fear, my mouth immediately opens to let out a blood curdling scream, though am cut short as the person's hand clamps over my mouth to dull the sharp sound. I thrash against his hold in attempts of escape, where I fully intend to kick him where the sun doesn't shine before sprinting away and calling the cops.

That is, until I hear their voice.

"Fucking hell, Bianca. Chill out." I go lack at the familiar voice, their grip on me loosening in return.

I narrow my eyes as I slowly incline my neck to look upwards, my eyes searching for the face of the intruder to confirm my suspicions. I glare the moment we make eye contact, hoping that my look alone will be enough to kill him where he stands, or maybe I could shoot lasers from my eyes.

Chase Fucking Michaels.

I'm going to land you in the hospitable, you little shitbag.

"What the actual fuck are you doing in my room at," I pause, looking over to my alarm clock for the time before continuing, "five in the goddamn morning?!" Though my statement should have been a controlled question, the slight horror and clear surprise in my tone is what makes Chase chuckle at me.

Come on, it's five in the fucking morning. No sensible person wakes up this early on a Saturday of all days. I certainly don't, nor did I ever have any plans to do such a thing. Had it not been for this obnoxious brunet before me, I would have been asleep, dreaming something weird and abnormal as always.

"I'm your wakeup call," Chase grins, seemingly proud of himself over the small (and dumb) joke. He holds his arms out to the sides, as if displaying himself, though I wish I could extend my own arm to smack him in the face.

Sadly, he's out of my lazy reach.

I roll my eyes at him before I continue my glaring. "Funny, I distinctly remember sending your calls straight to voicemail," I snip back, but it only makes him laugh some more.

"Real clever, White," he says lightheartedly, but the use of that cursed last name only worsens my already shitty mood.  

"Thanks," I respond dryly, refusing to lighten my glare. I don't bother to correct on my last name, too tired to even think about it.

Why couldn't I be blessed with extraordinary powers so that I could just transport Chase out of my house and go back to sleep?

"Hey, don't touch that," I grumble as he begins his search around the room. Or perhaps he'd already begun it, and my waking had only interrupted him. Either way, he needs to cut it out.

"Why?" The childish reply makes me want to get up and smack the smirk right off his perfectly chiseled face. And at a normal time, I wouldn't have hesitated. But I've only woken up about three minutes ago and I've only managed to gather enough energy to sit up, but definitely not stand. And even if I delivered the slap, it'd be so weak that it would seem as if I was patting him, and no doubt he would tease me about that.

"Because this isn't your room, Michaels. Now answer my question." I rub at my eyes as I sigh, trying my best to wake up despite everything inside of me screaming to go back to sleep.

I'm no stranger to sleepless nights, or having less hours of it. With the lifestyle I've decided to live, sleep wasn't always the priority. But when I did manage to get sleep, I preferred that I not be disturbed.

"I told you, I'm your wakeup call." Chase ignored making eye contact as he continued his search around my room, glancing at all of my things. I was too tired to tell him to stop.

I shiver as I feel a small breeze come in, my thin sleep clothes doing little to fight off the chill. I lazily turn my head over to my window, which now lay wide open, the small breeze making the curtains ruffle. Clearly Chase had climbed in through my window, and used the tree outside my window as his ladder.

"That's one hell of a shitty explanation," I told him, but he ignored me as he continued his search, switching topics.

"Your room is different than I remember," he commented absentmindedly, while I laid back down on my pillow, though this time, I was sure sleep would evade me for the rest of the night - or morning, as it seems.

"Well that's only natural," I responded, pulling the cover of my bed up to my shoulders, supervising Chase as he looked about so I could make sure he didn't trash my room or breaking anything in it.

Chase was right, my room definitely had changed. The old lavender color my room had been painted in childhood had turned into a grayish white. The childish toys and stuffed animals were put away into the storage room, replaced with decor and other things. Girly and childish frames and been replaced with neutral ones, along with the pictures swapped out in favor of more recent ones. In all senses, I'd grown up, and this room had grown along with me.

"I guess so," Chase commented, but something in his tone made me falter. Was it just me or did he sound a tiny bit... sad?

"Chase, are you actually going to answer my question some time soon?" The harsh snappiness had been gone from my tone, but the underlaying anger of being woken up had stayed, and remained unforgiven. I really wanted to go over there and use my moodiness to it's full extent, but in all honesty after the party from last night, and the lack of sleep, I didn't have it in me to do so.

"Truly?" Chase sighed, tuning towards before collapsing onto a bean bag I had laying around. "I was bored."

Of-fucking-course

"Fuck you," I muttered, but simply just reached for my phone on the bedside table. "It's too early for shit like that. Go home." I put my fingerprint over the home button, glaring at his smirking face as I checked my notifications.

"I'll pass," he told me, taking out his own phone from his jean pocket, scrolling through whatever app he'd pulled up. It was clear that he was only beginning to get comfy but I'd be damned if I let him stay.

"What the actual hell are you even doing up this early?" I asked him, my tone showing my irritation, but that did little to deter him.

"Couldn't really sleep," he told me, not even meeting my eyes.

"Go home and try again," I stated bluntly.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I could recognize the comment as rude but I was far too upset to give a shit at the moment.

The shits I give have long since gone out the window. Speaking of, I'd be grateful if Chase could also go out the window.

"I'm good," he murmured with a grin, reminding me of the childish little brat version of Chase I'd had to deal with when we were younger.

"What are you, five?" I asked sarcastically. "Don't be stubborn, Chase. Leave and stop being a piece of shit."

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" He laughed, as if he found the situation funny.

I was five seconds away from throwing my alarm clock at him.

"Yup, a ray of sunshine that's about to kick you where the sun doesn't shine." He shook his head at my half-assed threat, clearly not finding me intimidating.

I cursed the brunet sitting before me. Everyone knew that a Bianca that had just woken up was a very dangerous person. A lot of them didn't know how to handle me in the mornings, and had happily left me alone. But here Chase sat, laughing at me and not the least bit willing to bend to my will. He'd been friends with me for years, a little morning moodiness was nothing new. And definitely not the worst.

"Your empty threats don't scare me," he tutted, giving me a fake look disapproval.

"I swear to god that if you don't get out of my room right now I will throw you out that window myself." This time, the threat wasn't empty, and by the way Chase's eyes widened, I bet he could tell that, too.

"Shit, you're not kidding are you? You have that look in your eyes that you get whenever you're gonna hurt someone."

I didn't say anything, knowing that words would do nothing. Chase was always more of an action type of person. So to get my point across, I began sitting up in my bed, preparing to launch out from my covers and strangle that boy if need be.

Chase immediately bolted up, not wanting to face my wrath. He gave me a frightened grin as he began his walk to my window, hands up in surrender to show he'd really do it.

"Party pooper," he grumbled, as he neared my window.

My pillow smacked him in the head, making him falter forwards a few steps. He caught himself on the window sill, moments from falling right over it.

"Jesus," he commented, turning back to glare at me. "I'll leave, okay? But you don't need to actually make me fall out of the window. Let me climb down, would you?"

I gave him a flat look. "Just get out."

He rolled his eyes at me, as if I was the one being ridiculous, huffing out something unintelligible as he began to climb through my window.

What a pain in the ass.

***

Turns out, I was never quite destined for peace. Well at least not when it involves a certain boy that went by the name of Chase Michaels, my new and old neighbor who has once again decided to become a nuisance in my life.

On a typical Saturday morning, when not recuperating among other friends due to hangovers, or perhaps getting myself into mischief, you'll find me at home, usually on the couch watching recorded episodes, a coffee in my hand as I slowly wake up. This morning had been no exception, or it wasn't until my peaceful morning was shattered.

It's still fairly early - at least in my opinion it is - when Chase comes bursting into my house uninvited for the second time of the day. I can hear him as he enters my house, though I'm sure that was just the intention.

"Honey, I'm home!" He bellows as he closes the door behind him, making me groan at the the prospect of having to engage with the likes of him before it's even lunch.

Why can't he just go back to the hole he climbed out of?

After his break-in to my abode, I hadn't been able to go back to sleep. I mean, I'd tried, trust me, I really did, but the next few hours after the encounter had only resulted in me shuffling in my sheets until I gave up and watched some Netflix.

As of now, I was getting into my decent person mode, hoping that the bad mood from lack of sleep will fade away. Most of the time the moodiness most will complain about will go away just as I hope, though the recovery takes some time. I'd been making pretty good progress, but Chase bombarding into my house right now certainly wouldn't help.

My head turns slightly to my right, glancing to the front door where Chase is already hanging up his jacket and taking off his shoes as if he plans to be staying awhile. But if I have any say in it, he'll be gone quicker then the expensive Girl Scout cookies we always buy and end up eating in a day.

"What do you think you're doing?" My eyes follow him as me moves, looking through my lashes while I take a sip of coffee from my mug. He looks up at my voice, grinning almost smugly.

One would think that he'd be less enthusiastic after what a great hostess I was earlier this morning. I for one, would definitely be unhappy, but then again, Chase is far from me.

I was obviously way cooler.

"I'm walking in the house, duh." I'm not sure whether it's normal-person-Bianca, or fuck-mornings-Bianca talking, but his words are incredibly dumb and unsatisfying that I'm actually tempted to launch my mug coffee at his face. Lucky for the bastard, I'm in desperate need of the caffeine, and would never imagine wasting my precious coffee on the likes of him. No matter how much I want to.

Chase begins to stalk over to where I'm sitting on my couch, plopping down as he grabs the remote that I'd put beside me as if it's own house. Whether he noticed or not, he'd ended up partially sitting on my leg, which had been covered up with the blanket I'd thrown over myself. I groan as I rip away my limb from under his weight, restraining myself from calling him a fatass. 

I'll start throwing insults when I can differentiate between morning mood swings and regular ol' bitchiness.

"You haven't even been around for two full days, and you act like you own the place," I grumble, frowning into my cup as I sip some more. I'm going to need all the caffeine I can get.

The ass didn't even apologize for using me as his seat cushion.

"Need I remind you that I was actually around longer but you are an oblivious teenage girl who is too wrapped up in her social life to pay attention to the things around her." I glare at the comment, feeling oddly offended although I know he's only joking. Steadying my cup with one hand, I use the other hand to smack him upside the head, something I've been wanting to do since earlier this morning.

It wasn't even like the comment was largely offensive. It was teasingly absurd at most. I'd never been the type of girl to do such a thing, and I still wasn't, which is one of the things I'd always prided myself on. His words were nothing but a hit at my ego, one I should have easily brushed off.

What can I say, morning Bianca is touchy. 

Chase groans at the contact to his head, leaning  forward in his seat a little from surprise, reach around to the back of his head to rub it while he turns to me and glares.

I smile at him innocently.

"Bianca?" My mother's voice drifts down to us as she begins her down our stairs. "Who's there?"

"Just an as--" I'm cut off before I can finish my statement, Chase lurching forward to put his hand over my mouth. Our eyes narrow at one another as he hurries to correct me.

"It's Chase, Mrs. White," he calls up, answering for me. I cringe from anger at the use of the last name, biting his hand so he'll take it off my face. He curses and flings his palm away, clutching it to his chest as he calls me a little brat.

My mother comes down the steps moments afterwards, not witnessing the scene of the teenagers in her living room who were acting childish as all hell. She straightens out her clothes and glances around to look for us. "Chase?" The surprise in her voice is evident, but once she spots the brown haired boy beside me she smiles like a little kid on Christmas.

Oh, well, don't I just feel loved.

"Well, don't just sit there," she reprimands, using hand gestures to beckon Chase over to her. "Come give me a hug. I haven't seen you in ages."

Damn, Mom, where's my hug? Actually, I'd pass anyways, I'm too comfy on the couch.

Chase carelessly tosses the remote in my lap as he gets up to greet my mom, reciprocating her grin. "You still look absolutely stunning, Mrs. White, as always," he compliments, arms going around my petite mother. He's quite the bit taller than her, and the sight looks almost funny. My mother wasn't a short person, but Chase was well over 6 feet.

My mother doesn't even flinch at the use of the name of her ex husband, but I for one haven't gotten over it. The name is a painful reminder, and the reason why I choose to go by her maiden name now.

My mother shakes her head with a smile of disbelief as she steps away, her hands going to his broad shoulders, which are higher than her own. "My, you've grown," she comments, still smiling. "But please, you know to call me Valerie, Chase," she tells him, patting his arm. "We've never had any of that last name nonsense. You're practically part of the family."

He was. But he's not anymore. Family is supposed to be there for each other. He wasn't.

The sudden bitterness of my thoughts almost surprises me, having come out of nowhere. I'd never really held anything against Chase before, well at least not for awhile. I'm not sure where the resentment had bubbled up from, but it had to be coming from my large dungeon of repressed demons. There's lots of shit locked up there.

I easily bite back the words before they can slip out of my mouth, knowing that for 1) mom will just reprimand me and frown disapprovingly, and 2) I'm not all that mad at Chase for practically not being there. He moved for good reason, it's not his fault. I just need to stop being bitter and childish.

"Chasey," I murmur, in between coffee sips. "Not to be rude, but what the heck are you doing in my house?" I glance over at my mother to see her reaction, relaxing when I see her smile and shake her head before making her way to the kitchen to grab her own coffee.

"Am I not allowed to see my favorite basic white girl ever?" He walked back over and sits back down on the couch, grinning widely. My face remains unenthused, forcing him to talk further. "Alright fine, I'm bored. You were conveniently next door."

"Well you're only going to get a lot more bored," I told him, readjusting the blanket over me so that I was even more cocooned in its warmth. "I'm being a bum today. Nothing very exciting, I assure you."

I frown as I reach the bottom of my coffee, peering down as if that will magically make more of the caffeine appear from thin air. I sigh before I set it down onto the coffee table, throwing the blanket back around myself as I turned over to Chase.

He was grinning at me. "Looks like your plans just got changed."

•(edited)•
A/N: so this was slightly altered, for the better of course. I know you guys don't want to read this stuff, but it's definitely better than the old version.

Also, a new scene is coming up in the next chapter or so, don't miss it!