wine stains

tune into channel 6

Zach wakes up in a cold sweat. His breath is heavy as he sits up on his bed.
He glances at the clock on his nightstand.

6.24 am

He lays back down with his eyes wide open. His eyes inspect his own room. White ceiling with tan walls. Rustic furniture was gifted by his grandma before she passed. His room seemed so...passive. In a way, it's the perfect reflection of himself. He looks at the alarm clock again.

6.33 am

The brunet sighs and gets up. He opens his curtains and looks at his view. From his bedroom, he could see Central Park. Most trees were naked due to the season. He sees people walking their dogs and running. Cars honking loudly at each other. Firetrucks and police cars rushed to save someone.

He lowers his head as a sign of mourning, hoping it isn't yet another victim of the serial killer. It has been too much. It's as if the killer is ten steps ahead of the police at all times. In a major city like New York, it's fairly simple to get lost in the crowd. To blend in.

The killer was so meticulous that not even a strand of hair, a speck of dna, stays in the victims body. He must be an expert. He thinks.

A yawn hits him without warning, and he stretches his body, his shirt riding up to display his briefs.

The brunet heads to the bathroom and has a shower. He lets the water drops fall on his shoulders and slide down his body. The droplets go over his lightly bruised hips as the brunet rinses his hair.

His clothes are casual as he knows a suit is waiting for him in the studio. A grey sweatshirt with some cargo pants disguises his features.

Breakfast is always the same thing. He brews some coffee and makes some toast without sparing on the butter. He refrains from turning on the television. Zach is sure he will get the full summary of the news as soon as he gets to the studio.

The brunet washes his mug and plate with the utmost perfection. He leaves them to dry and takes care of his bedroom. Now that the light hits his room, it didn't seem so passive. He makes his bed by pulling his light green bedsheets up.

Everything about him was light. Never bold. He couldn't bring himself to be bold. What would that turn him into? Some sort of a role model? He was the exact opposite of it–at least that's what he thought.

If he were a bold person, he wouldn't have crumbled under Jonah's pressure. He would be able to say no more firmly. He would be able to assert himself.

Zach slowly lets out a sigh as he glances at his wristwatch.

8.02 am

He starts work at one in the afternoon. As if on cue, his phone rings. Zach picks it up and checks who is calling him.

Dani flashed on his screen. He picks up.

"Good morning, dude. I hope you didn't forget that we have to go to Brooklyn for that career day thing."

He totally forgot about that.

"Anyways, I'm waiting for you on your building. You can dress casually, we're just doing my sister a favour." He continues. "Zach, are you there?"

The brunet clears his throat. "Yeah, just making my bed." His voice was raspy as this was his first sentence after a long time without speaking.

"Ah, no need to bring lunch, I really wanna try that new restaurant by the studio!" Zach could feel his smile through the phone.

The brunet turns off all lights and locks his door.

"It's not one of those weird gastronomic experiences with foam, is it?" He questions, having been subject to a lot of gastromical adventures with his coworker.