TBS AND ALL HIS CHARACTERS One-Shots

Its Going To Be Okay (Phantom Halo Sam)

ayyyyy kayy bye

~~~

Y/N's P.O.V.

"Jenny!" I walked through the rickety door of my apartment. That thing seriously needed to be repainted.

My heavy coat was thrown lazily onto the floor near the entrance, covered in a light dusting of snow.

The smell of vanilla wafted into my nose as I shut our door. I let my eyes drift shut as my body leaned back against the door, a long groan escaped my lips.

My muscles ached from a long days work. My feet were cramping inside my worn shoes.

"Jennifer! Where are you?" My voice carried easily through the apartment.

I was currently living with one of my school mates from high school a year back. We graduated from hell a couple months ago, both hated our home lives more than we did ourselves, and decided that it'd be better to just get a shitty apartment out of state that we could call our own.

Colorado seemed like a good fit. Cheep, collage towns were easy to live in. Nice pubs, fun people, mediocre clubs. Life was alright here.

I got a job at a small cafe down the street a little while back. My neighbor owned the shabby little thing and needed someone to work the register. I jumped on that offer like a dog to a piece to meat. It paid nice enough, but was tiring as hell. But hey, it paid the everlasting bills, right?

 Jen worked at a law firm she scored a job at last month. I couldn't believe she had actually gotten the thing, but I guess her icy-blue eyes, killer smile, and nice set of boobs got the job done. Ha, no pun intended.

"Jen! I swear to God! Where are you! I have something to tell you!" I screamed through the flat, hoping I wasnt too loud and bothering the neighbors. We had gotten a couple of complaints from the old, shriveled-up woman across the hall.

I had gone over there multiple times to go apologize for our "unruly rowdiness", but she always asks me to repeat myself. Over. And. Over. Again. Kind of makes me think she's just complaining for the hell of it. If she couldn't hear me yelling directly into her ear, how could she hear me screaming at Jen or laughing my ass off? Hmm? Suspicious.

"I'm taking a shit! Hold on! I'll be out in a second!" I heard her call from the bethroom we shared.

My eyes rolled. Bitch.

I plopped down on the used couch we bought about a week ago, kicking my dirty converse off my tired feet.

Even though we weren't at all financially stable, we made sure we had nice things, nice furtiture, nice cloths. Not much of anything, and almost everything came from generous aunts or friends, but we didn't own shit.

Our flat consisted of a bedroom we shared, a living room right outside of that, a shabby kictchen we were too sleep deprived to use, and a small bathroom right off our bedroom.

We had enough furiture, simple decor, an 'okay' tv. We had to share a king bed, but we were close. Both of us thought the situation wasn't half bad, we were living our lives. By ourselves. No terrible parents screaming at us all the time. No drunk fathers stealing our money. No more abusive boyfriends. It was over. We were starting a-new.

Jen came sauntering out in my sweats and an old jumper from one of her ex's.

"Those are mine, you know?" I comented, flatly.

She threw her curly blond hair into a bun atop her head. "Does it look like I care?" She sassed.

"Fuck you," I retorted as she curled up on the large, plush chair a couple feet to the right of the television.