For this one to make sense, you need to abandon your common sense and just trust your imagination. I will give you only one hint to help you make sense in this chapter: the date.
27th April 2056
Deidara woke up, shivering, his forehead covered with cold sweat. He felt cold, even though it was spring in Spain. He'd seen a nightmare again. To be precise, he'd seen the nightmare again, the one he'd been seeing for as long as he could remember. He could never recall what it was about once he'd woken up, but the feeling after it always remained the same. There were always the same blurry images running through his head, too abstract to understand.
He got out of his bed and grabbed his nightgown from the back of the chair. He marched out of his messy room, stepping over the piles of clothes and books lying on the ground, hurrying to get some breakfast and to get the nightmare out of his mind. The rest of the apartment was relatively clean compared to his bedroom, already making him feel a little better.
"Well, if it isn't my little cremnophobic brother, joining us for some breakfast," Akira, Deidara's one year older brother, snickered, when the blond entered the kitchen. "Wanna go cliff diving, Dei? I have some free time in the afternoon."
"Har har. Your jokes haven't improved since eight grade. I can see why your ex dumped you, although I'm having a hard time figuring out, why she agreed to go on a date in the first place. Did you threaten her?"
A pack of cereal hitting him in the face made him shut up. He caught it and poured some cereal into his bowl, before adding milk. He took a seat next to his father, who was reading a newspaper while drinking some coffee.
"Akira, these kinds of jokes are not acceptable towards your brother," the boy's mum scolded her oldest son, her eyes leaving the magazine in her hands for a moment. "Take them back."
"Mama!" Deidara yelled like he'd stepped on a snake. "For God's sake, I'm 17! I think I can take care of myself, without you having to step in every time me and Akira nag at each other!"
"Now hold it, boy," Deidara's dad's deep voice said, his tone more than serious as he looked up from his newspaper. "You're-."
"No!" Deidara cut him short, standing up, almost shaking from anger. "Not a boy, OK? I'm almost an adult, alright?"
"And still a virgin," Akira added so quietly, only Deidara could hear.
In his mind, Deidara vowed to get back on his brother for that sneaky, yet true, comment. But that had to be later, when his parents weren't around.
His eyes shifted back to his parents and he saw that, expectedly, they were none too happy about the outburst. He realized his mistake and that he had to make it up, if he wanted to go out that day. In spite of his age, since he was still living in his parent's apartment, he had no other choice, but to act like a good child.
"I'm sorry," he said, sitting down, eyes on the table.
"We will talk about this later, but for now, finish your breakfast."
Deidara obeyed silently, sensing his brother's low chuckle across the table. He ate up and went to the sink to wash his bowl. The irritation level was rising in him, but he had to keep it from showing on his face. Somewhat cautiously, he proceeded out of the kitchen, back to his messy room.
He hated how he had to act all humble and unpretentious around his parents, especially his father. He doubted the man had a clue of his true nature. On the other hand, the alternative would've been for him to move out, but that would've meant getting a part-time job, and even if he would've managed to figure out a way to get his homework done with extra responsibilities to occupy his time, there were hardly any jobs for minors available. Besides stripping, but Deidara didn't consider that as an option.
He heard his phone ringing and snapped his head in the direction of the tone. It took him a little digging in a pile of random stuff before he managed to find his cell.
"Where are you? Scratch that, why aren't you here yet?"
Deidara glanced at his watch. It showed 10 am.
"We had to meet at 11 am, no?"
"Ten am, Deira." (A/N: No, this isn't a typo. Deidara's friends nicknamed him Deira, being so creative to skip one syllable.)
"Math was never my favorite subject."
"Well, what about English?"
Deidara smirked at the comeback. "I'll meet you in half an hour, alright?"
Without waiting for an answer, he ended the call and threw it back into the pile he'd found it from. He found a pair of white jeans to wear and a T-shirt. In the end, he still had to search the same pile to find his cell again, before grabbing his jacket and heading out, purposefully avoiding the kitchen shortcut to the exit.
He took his time walking to the meeting place, succeeding in being 5 more minutes late. He was greeted by his group of friends, who didn't seem too happy about waiting.
"Hey, before you kill me, hear my amazing defensive comeback that will make all the anger in you go away, alright?"
There was a short silence, the groups' faces like a challenge for Deidara to bring it on. The blond bit his lip and raised his palms.
"OK, I don't have none. But I can buy you a round of drinks."
Now that was the language his friends understood. All grimaces were washed away to be replaced by joking smirks. Deidara knew this all too well, only because this was his life. Literally, if someone had forced him to pick an essence for his life, he would've picked the times he spent with his friends, basically doing nothing. In any case, nothing remarkable. Surviving in the city with the highest crime rate, where every week, at least 10 people got killed and 18 raped, and getting away with all the crap they pulled didn't count.
Kankuro stopped a taxi (by stepping in front of one and almost getting run over) and the group of teens got in. Deidara had no idea who was going to pay, or if any of them even had any money at that point, but it didn't really matter. It never mattered. For one thing, at least, he knew that he couldn't afford it, if he wanted to be able to keep his word and buy his friends some drinks later.
The five of them were squished together in the backseat, Deidara sitting in Akane's lap, who looked a little green around the gills. The blond wondered if he'd already had some drinks before and wished that he wouldn't throw up, at least not with him sitting in his lap.
The taxi pulled over in front of their pub. It came out that Kankuro still had some money, and he pulled it out to pay the cabbie. The group trooped out of the car then, looking around like they were seeing the sun for the first time in their lives. And then the yelling and shouting began . Any bystander would've claimed that they were definitely drunk, or, to say at the least, high. But no, alcohol was only about to flow into their systems.
They made their way to the pub, pushing Deidara to go in first as he was the one supposed to buy the drinks. The blond laughed along with the group and fished out his wallet, showing the cash inside to his friends to receive loud cheering in return. Backed up by an applause of thirsty teenagers, Deidara walked to the counter and ordered the drinks.
Everybody got their share and the shouting had just reached the loudest point, when Deidara heard a voice that made him freeze. He couldn't make out the words it said, he wasn't even sure how he could hear it in all the noise, but it made him turn around.
His hand holding the glassware filled with beer, bashed into someone standing behind him. The liquid spilled over the edge onto the ground, the two males backing away instantly, in order to avoid their clothes getting ruined.
«Извините!» (A/N: Russian for 'sorry'. Pron.: Eez-ve-ne-tye) The voice gave Deidara goose bumps all over his back as his eyes still stayed on the ground covered with beer. Fast and blurry images were racing through his head, every single one of them forgotten once it was replaced by a new one. But something still stayed, a little detail. It was more of a feeling, something he sensed at the back of his mind. Something red and cold. Very cold. Freezing.
Deidara couldn't fight the headache that was caused by this, connecting all the dots to his ever-lasting nightmare. He raised his head and saw a red-headed man in his early twenties standing in front of him, an apologetic smile on his face.
In a second, the headache got even worse, and the blurry image, that was more of a feeling, transformed into an image of the same man standing in front of him.
Soo... did you get it? And more importantly, ANYONE UP FOR A SEQUEL?