Haha haha ok

Seriously dont read

Idek
I don't even know

Will there be a POV? (Spoiler, it's Appies POV bye)

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Light blue blouse. Dark blue pants with matching coat. Tie, which her dad tied. Both of them stand in the mirror and watch. Then they smile.

In front of me lays the same outfit.
Different sizes, of course, and not a female blouse, but besides that, it's oddly similar. No tears roll down my face when I pull off my shirt and carefully close button after button, only to start over when I'm almost done because I skipped the button in the beginning. The tie is a problem though, but with some help from YouTube I was able to fix it after ten minutes. Getting late was not a big problem anyway.
The classy shoes feel different from my sneakers. People watch me as if they expect me to have a suitcase, and some eyebrows raise a little when they notice my Fjallraven backpack. I don't mind and keep walking. The car is staying home today. Going by feet is healthier and better for the environment. And it's about a twenty minute walk to the bus station, so if I really want to, I can use public transportation. I highly doubt I will.
The sun shines pretty bright. Bright enough to make me squint my eyes when looking up to the high building made of mostly glass and white material. I don't look at my own reflection and step inside, noticing my shoes again. Today's the day. Smile, pretty boy.
The sides of my mouth go up farther than I expected. If I stop moving, you can tell my body is shaking because of adrenaline. I try to ignore my nausea coming up. It's just the adrenaline, I'm not actually nauseous. The shoes make a funny click noise. Not like heels. But a louder noise than my Allstars. They stop in front of the elevator door and I look down, wait till they open, step in and turn around, showing my back to the mirror behind me. The lady who already stood in the elevator made some place even though the two of us had space enough to begin with. I press the button which will bring me to the fifth floor. The button of the third floor had been already pressed.
My mouth is dry and my heartbeat is fast. Even though I might die from these intense feelings any moment, there's a big grin on my face. It feels unnatural. But it's there and it won't go away. It's been there since I walked into the office and it doesn't even hurt. I got nice teeth, I have all the right to show them. When the door opens and the woman leaves with a "goodbye", I nod and my smile gets bigger. The door closes slow enough to see her walk away. I wonder who that was.
The door opens on the fifth floor not much later, and that's when I realize my heart wasn't beating fast at all back on the third floor. My feet don't seem to move and the door closes again. That was a sign for my body to reach out to the door to make it go back again and open up. I step out. I walk down the hallway I've walked down a lot of times, but never with these clothes. A simple t-shirt. Crewneck. Hoodie. Some joggers and a cup of ice coffee with way too much milk. And now I'm looking like my dad. Like her.
The steps sound louder in my head and look bigger in my mind, but I don't seem to move so fast at all. I was already planning my big "surprise!!" catch phrase for when I walked into the room. There they'd be sitting. Would they like what I was wearing? Will they care? Will they respect me? "Wow, Albert, you look so mature!" How do I look? What if I tied the tie wrong? Wrong shoes? Does it look weird with my hair? Would she'd like it?
Before I was able to get to the room, another door opens and he steps out. My whole plan crumbles in my mind. An explosion of heat followed by an overwhelming cold sensation waves over me. I step back to make sure I don't fall. Then I pull myself together, but he doesn't seem to do the same. On the floor is now coffee that flows out of a biological and recycled container, brown with little green trees. He got it from the same shop he always goes too. Expensive coffee, but tastes the same as the coffee you buy at some gas station. You just pay for the name and for the environmental protection.
His eyes go up and down my body, then he slowly puts his nose in the air, like he always does, but the eyes don't let go of me. Then a slow and soft: 'What are you wearing..?' leaves his mouth. I start smiling and ignore the tears that now start annoying my eyes.
'Surprise!' I say and I use my arms to imitate some sort of weird explosion. The silence after that makes it rather awkward.
Fighting back tears, I try to figure out what to say next. There's a complete chaos in my head and I can't get a grip on it.
'I thought, maybe it's time for something new, haha!' My voice is loud and unnatural, 'Do you like it? You always complain about my clothes, so I'm kind of nervous, lol.'
'Those are her clothes, aren't they?'
For some seconds, I don't know how to react. 'Well, I got them from my dad some years ago, so technically they're mine! Pretty cool, huh?' I check out my arms and blink a couple times, trying to make the tears disappear.
Another silence.
'Pretty.. Pretty cool, right?' It's squeaky and shaky, and I cough to fix it. My legs start getting weak.
It's the way he looks at me. I don't think I've ever seen it. It looks like he's worried.
'Are you.. Alright?'
He takes some steps forward, ignoring his coffee on the ground. It confuses me. He isn't supposed to question my well-being. He should be happy. Or mad. Or mean. But not protective.
When he takes another step forward, I take a step back.
'Alright?' I repeat, 'Am I alright? Did you really ask that? Does it look like I'm not alright?!' My voice gets louder with every word.
He stops walking. I do too.
'Are you alright?!' I put a huge emphasis on the "you", 'You don't seem alright! Why aren't you judging me?!'
'Don't make a scene, Albert.'
'Albert! Albert?!' I now step forward, on my way to grab his stupid black blouse, 'So now you suddenly know my name? You spilled your coffee on the ground! Get mad! Get mad!'
My hands hit his chest, but not hard. More some sort of angry hitting, chaotic hitting, "I don't know what to do" hitting.
'Say it!' I cry, 'Say how stupid I am! Say it!' I don't even try to hold the tears back anymore.
The door opens but I don't see who's watching. I do recognize Del's voice when I hear "what's going on?", but he raises his hand as a sign that he will handle me today.
'You're a dick!' I yell while now actually hitting his chest with my fist, 'You're a fucking dick, you know that?! Thinking you're better than everyone, huh?! You think you're better than me because you're a dick?!'
I punch him some more times, but he does nothing back. Nothing. He doesn't even move. Doesn't even talk. He just lets me be.
'I hate you!' My punches get softer and I hate it. My legs start shaking and I hate it. His hand softly holds my fist back and I hate it. My head turns to down and I see how my tears fall on the ground. I grab his blouse and clench my fists. I shake him a little, then let my head fall onto it and use him to make sure I keep standing.
'I hate you..' I now whisper and a cry leaves my mouth. He takes a few steps and I follow him backwards. He made sure we don't stand in his coffee anymore, only then he allows me to crash down on the ground with him. I hold onto his plain black blouse as if it's the last thing I have and I let him put his arm around me. I let him put my backpack off. I let his hand touch my hair. You could hear my ugly sobs through the whole hallway and it made me even more embarrassed, yet I couldn't stop. I feel his cheek on the top of my head, resting, while I'm not even close to resting. All the nerves in me had been building up and I start feeling dizzy, then notice my nausea again. I press myself out of his arms, which went smoother than I expected, get up and rush into the nearest bathroom, slam the door open and my head meets the pot just in time. I didn't eat much this morning, but everything I did eat just flooded out of me. The room is filled with vomiting noises, and quickly filled with the smell too. I hear the door open and a different shoe clacking than mine, but still pretty similar. Must be men shoes. He doesn't seem to move any further, and I puke again. But since I don't have anything in me anymore, it's just the feeling of puking without something actually getting out. It's annoying and it hurts. A groan and a cry follow. It's silent after that. I try to catch some breath and sit down against the toilet walls. After a deep exhale, I see him standing in the doorway, leaning, arms crossed, looking down. In his hand is the coffee cup he dropped on the floor some minutes ago, in the pockets of his pants is a package of tissues. Did he forget there is toilet paper here?
'I'm going to get you some water, okay?' He doesn't look at me when saying it. The inside of his cup seems to be more interesting, just like the stone floor is more interesting to me. Apparently keeping silent the same "yeah, alright" to him, because after some seconds he decides to walk away and wash the cup, then fill it with water. If I wouldn't want him to, I would've said something.
He returns and looks at me, hands me the cup. Because I look at it for a bit longer than normal, he adds a 'I washed it.' I take the cup and look how the water moves. After moving it around for a while and not paying attention to the things he's is saying, I smell the water and let it enter my mouth. I shiver when I swallow, take some bigger sips till the cup is empty. His hand reaches out again and I give him the cup. He leaves and I hear water running down the faucet for a second time. When he comes back and gives me the cup once more, I quickly drink it up. I'm not thirsty anymore, but not drinking the water he just got me is kinda rude, isn't it? Yet he thinks I'm not fueled up enough. 'I'll get you a bottle of water,' he says, 'Or some soup. Soup is very good after one threw up. Salty, liquid-'
'No, I've had enough.' The way I sound surprises me and scares me a little. It's so soft yet raspy, and I cough, noticing how weird my throat feels. I get up, he helps me. My feet follow his, not caring about where he's bringing me. I don't realize how much trust I put in him.
We stop at the door and I read "Beau Jenkins". He opens it and brings me inside, putting me down on the soft fauteuils. Next to it is something what's supposed to be some kind of matching table, maybe footrest, but he grabs it and sits down next to me. I don't like how I'm suddenly the center of the attention, and my clothes are annoying me. That's when I realize what I'm wearing. I realize why I puked. I realized why I cried, got mad. My whole body starts heating up. I hear him talking but I don't understand what he says. It's not like I care anyway. The clothes. They're still on me. I.. I shouldn't freak out about this. They're just clothes.
It's when this one, single thought hit me.
I need to take them off.
There's no explanation given. I just need to take them off. They need to be off. The longer I ignore it, the crazier my mind gets. He says my name, I notice my fast breathing. I start cursing and grabs my knees. No, I shouldn't. That jacket needs to be off. All the clothes need to be off. I'm freaking out and I'm weak. I'm crying, but the clothes aren't off.