Chương 3: Daily Life

Loyd stepped into the apartment. It looked considerably better than the stairwell with its peeling paint and perpetually flickering light. Pale yellow walls, a kitchen, three rooms. One of them was often empty — his father frequently stayed overnight at work, and his bed sat neatly made for days at a time. Loyd had long since grown used to that silence, though at first it had felt vaguely oppressive. He had his own room, his own computer, and a reasonably decent life.

You could say they lived just slightly above average — not wealthy, but not poor either. Enough to always have something in the fridge and a decent pair of headphones on the shelf. Loyd took off his shoes, pulled off his track jacket and hung it on the hook by the door. Slipped on his slippers — soft, grey, a little worn down. He shuffled into the kitchen, where the air smelled of something old and cozy, the way kitchens always do when a lot of cooking has happened in them over the years.

He put the groceries away — neatly, out of habit, milk on the door shelf, bread on the rack — and sank into the armchair with a heavy sigh. It let out a quiet creak under his weight, as if it too had had a long day.

"Today really wore me out. I thought I'd eat something, but I guess that's not happening." He sat for a moment, staring out the window. The lights in the neighbouring buildings were slowly going dark. The city lived its own life — calm, unhurried, as if nothing unusual had ever happened here. Though just a year ago, everything had been completely different. Then he remembered something and called out to his sister. — Hey, Rozi, you want anything to eat? I got milk. A muffled shout came from down the hall.

— No, thanks! I already ate — went out with some friends. Loyd smiled.

"Good. Then I'm going to bed." He got up, switched off the kitchen light, and headed to his room. The hallway was dark — only a thin strip of light under Rozi's door reminded him he wasn't alone in the apartment. He stopped in front of his door and opened it slowly. The hinges gave a faint creak — a familiar sound he'd long stopped noticing. The usual scene greeted him. Blue walls, a sheer curtain on the window, a blue blanket on the bed. Everything here was blue — or nearly everything.

Loyd had no particular attachment to the colour. It was just that long ago his parents had decided a blue room would be perfect for a boy, and nothing had changed since. Rozi had the same story — only in pink. Entirely, thoroughly pink. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"And she's actually a genuine fan of pink. Nature and nurture converging in one place." The bed was covered in scattered things — a t-shirt, some book, a charger, a few crumpled pieces of paper. He hadn't had time to tidy up in the morning because he'd been in a rush. He was always in a rush. Loyd sighed and got to work on a light clean-up. He didn't have the energy or the will for anything thorough — just swept the things off the desk, picked up what was on the floor, tossed the t-shirt over the back of the chair.

It looked a little better. Not much, but enough that it wouldn't bother him. He gave a quiet huff, changed into his home clothes — old sweatpants and a soft grey shirt — and flopped down onto the bed, pulling the blanket around himself. The pillow smelled familiar and warm. His body felt heavy at once. Almost automatically, he reached for his phone. He'd developed the habit a while back — five minutes, no more, scrolling through the news feed before sleep.

Just to switch his brain off from the day and land somewhere else. Sometimes it helped. Sometimes it didn't. The screen glowed in the dark. He lazily scrolled down, skimming headlines.

"It's already been a year since our city was freed from the Veil. The old-timers must've had half their heart attacks right then, finding out they'd slept through more than a hundred years." He laughed softly — to himself, into the dark. But the laughter faded quickly. Loyd looked up at the ceiling. Blue. Of course it was blue.

"Honestly, I still haven't fully gotten used to all of it. Dungeons. Monsters. Viruses that turn people into God knows what. I used to love playing games like that — fantasy, post-apocalypse, all of it. But seeing it in real life is something else entirely. It's not interesting anymore. It's just frightening." Outside, a tram passed — distant, barely audible. The city wasn't fully asleep, just quieter. Loyd set his phone face-down on the nightstand and rolled onto his side. But the thoughts wouldn't leave.

They kept coming — persistent, uninvited, the way they always do exactly when you just want to rest.

"Rozi at least got to go back to school. But there's clearly nothing left there for me. I'd just waste a year. I need to find work. But what kind? I don't even know where to start. What am I actually good at?" He frowned and pulled the blanket a little tighter.

"Before, at least things made sense — school, then university, then something. But now it's like everything's been flipped upside down. The world is different. The rules are different. Even people seem different — the ones who went through all of it look at things differently now." He thought about the faces on the streets. Some of them hollow, exhausted. Others the opposite — almost too alive, like people who still couldn't believe it was over and that they were allowed to just live now.

Loyd was somewhere in between. Not scared, not euphoric. Just... suspended.

"I wonder if others feel the same way. Or is it just me?" He shook his head, not addressing anyone in particular — just brushing the thoughts away like flies.

"To hell with all of it. Sleep now. The rest can wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow for sure. Definitely." He closed his eyes. Outside, another tram passed — or maybe the same one. The apartment was quiet. From Rozi's room came the faint sound of something playing — music, barely audible through the wall. Loyd lay still for a few minutes, listening to that quiet mixed with the sounds of the city. The thoughts grew slower, heavier — like clouds before rain. His body had almost stopped feeling like anything at all.

And then he was asleep.