[A3!] Three In The Mornings

Three In The Mornings

Who on Earth have the guts to text me at this kind of morning? It is a Monday too. I groan as I roll my body on the bed to face the damned gadget by my head. Still hearing the buzzing notification filling the entire room, I let out a long sigh with nothing but pure annoyance.

Minutes before, there was a soft tinkling, telling me I had an incoming call disrupting my beauty sleep. The minutes after, whoever the caller was apparently is persistent in reaching my attention. Grabbing the phone at long last, I finally open my eyes where a single stray of light burning my sight.

"Tsuzuru." I said the name shortly, resisting the urge to throw the phone back on the bed but the kind side of me show a bit of mercy so I check his text anyway. This guy is one of those male friends I have in Yosei University and the closest acquaintance I have in Mankai Company aside from the director.

Long story short, I outdone myself as a volunteer in the company, breezed through as a, what Miss Tachibana Izumi said, 'ultimately organised and perfect stagehand', she recruited me in as a resident stage manager. Meaning, she went out of the way to rearrange her bedroom to make way for a spot for mine to live in for who knows how long.

Anyway, we went off tangent.

The guy, Minagi Tsuzuru, lives downstairs in the Mankai dorm with a high schooler for a roommate. It doesn't serve any purpose besides making sure he is alive. I would scream in his ears if I have the chance. Though frankly speaking, we are not really the most verbal in term of communication.

We are writers. We write our thoughts out more than we speak. To translate, we only talk in texts and emails. Very formal for some but it gets the job done. Therefore, it is not a surprise if anyone has this dramatic shock expression on their faces to hear our voices directly travels to the other's ears.

Stage actors, am I right?

Still...it does not help the fact that he is interrupting my sleep.

'It's freaking 3 in the morning, Tsuzuru. What do you want?' I quickly typed in a reply and wait for the three dots to disappear. If there is one thing convenient about being friends with Tsuzuru it will be he is a fast replier. It connects whatever discussion we have instantly. Also, it is because Tsuzuru runs on caffeine at this kind of hour.

'Can we meet up at the balcony... now?'

Damn. In this ungodly hour? Of course, we can. Try not to read that in a sarcastic way. It does not help to ease the trouble of leaving the comfort of my bed but this fellow made it sounded urgent because again, it's a Monday.

I was the first to arrive at the meeting place before the sight of Tsuzuru in his pyjamas and dishevelled coffee pudding of a hair greets my eyes. There's his laptop in his arms, held dearly as if he is holding onto his final string in life. Well, I don't mean to sound mean but I understand his point. A laptop is a writer's heart other than a notepad with sketchy ideas for some unfinished drafts and manuscripts.

On any other time in the day, I don't mind the company. It is quite fortunate for my system to be awake fully. The crisp serene third hour of the day air smells clean and the cold wind reminds me of my negligence for not wearing an extra layer of protection for my skin. Turning on the light in the balcony as minimal as possible, we sit by the glass window.

"Sorry for waking you up. I just thought I should let you proofread the new script for the next play." Tsuzuru said with the grogginess evident in his voice. It is a miracle he hasn't collapse on his trip up to the balcony. The bags on his eyes look heavy and one can only wish they can help him to carry them. Hence, I decided for the night, I'll do the lifting.