The Midnight Men (Troyler) UNFINISHED

.2

Troye's POV
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Nothing describes hell more than waking up to the brain piercing sound of an alarm clock. The constant buzzing drills holes into my ears until it reaches my dreams and obliterates them. I groaned as I stretched out my arm, swatting my hand aimlessly hoping to hit the snooze button. I felt my fingers hit my nightstand and I crawled along the slacked wood until I was in reach of the horrid, noise making contraption. I gripped onto the metal bells atop the clock and sent the piece of shit flying across the room, smashing against the wall. The tiny bits of the alarm scattered about and when it hit the floor it sounded like rain. Fractions of glass and metal falling down like debris after a war was music to my ears.

My face was shoved into the crinkles of my yellow pillowcase that I stole from Tyler's house a few years after we started seeing each other regularly. It used to smell like him, it used to remind me of him, now it just smells like the rest of this house and symbolizes my pain. And yet, here I am.

"Shit," I exclaimed, rolling myself off my bed as gracefully as a demon who hates mornings could, "The meeting." I mumbled to myself as I struggled to put my pants on. I managed to slip my left leg into its rightful place but when I began to deal with my other limb, I accidentally misplaced my foot and fit it in the pocket instead. A shriek escaped from my lips, as a toppled over.

"Hey, Troye, you ok-" My brother, Tyde, entered the room without knocking, "Oh c'mon, man, would you put some pants on?" He scolded at the sight of my nearly, completely naked body sprawled out on the floor. His palms were pressed against his eyes as if me in boxers is a new sight to him. It's literally all I've been wearing in this rut I've thrown myself into.

"Trying to." I groaned, sitting up straight and crossing my legs in front of me. I raised my hands to my face and used my pointer fingers to swipe the crud out from the corners of my eyes. After my excuse of a face cleansing, I stretched my stiff arms above my head and craned them to the back of my neck, noises unwillingly erupting from the back of my throat.

"Don't you have to be at the congress meeting in a half hour?" Tyde reminded me as he leaned against the door frame, his eyebrows stitching together. I nodded shortly and directed my fist towards my dresser. With a few twirls of my hand and quick movements of my fingers, I had a plain T-Shirt floating out of the draw and over my head. I did the same with my pants after standing up and pushing past my brother before you could say 'tardy'.

"You're going to the most important meeting of the year, dressed like..." My mother ran into me on my way out, with a mixing bowl in her right hand and a bloody whisk in her left, probably making cake. She eyed me up and down appearing as if she just smelled something rancid, "...that?" she finished her question making it clear that being near her in my current state was an offense.

"Yes mom." I rolled my eyes, dipping my finger into the cake mix, swirling it around before sucking off the combination of delicious ingredients. I batted my eyelashes at my mother, taking my finger out of my mouth with a pop.

"You're so childish Troye." Eve reprimanded, "Don't you want to look good? Very important entities are gonna be there, ya know?"

"Yeah, like I want to impress a bunch of snobby Angels." I scoffed, laughing a tad more obnoxiously after dwelling on the thought, "Bye mom." I managed to say through muffled snorts.

Angels are like the plastics in mean girls except they never "sin." It's more of discreet insults and snooty comments that make them come across as better than everyone else. Every interaction I have with them makes my head ache with their condescending tone and literal angelic glow. The luminescent vail around their floating forms is blinding to the eye. It's like when people say don't look directly into the sun or else you'll go blind, well that's what Angels are like, fucking rays of deadly sunshine.