The pink hair dye I bought at seventeen still stains the bathroom tile at my mum's — she never painted over it, just sighed and said "it's your head, Soph." I swore I'd never settle for a normal life like theirs, nine-to-five and mortgage payments and quiet Fridays. Now I'm the one restocking shelves at Tesco and calling Dad to ask which drill bit to buy for a shelf I'll probably never hang.