Pretty Boy

two

I woke up on my own time schedule. Having no incredibly obnoxious alarm to wake up to is one of the best feelings in the world.

I had fallen asleep at around seven in the morning. My eyes fluttered open as I turned my head to get a view of my digital clock.

12:03pm.

That's not too bad for me, I suppose.

I lay in bed for another few minutes before standing up and heading to the bathroom. I look over my clothing and realise I didn't even change once I got home.

Deciding that I wanted to have a shower immediately, I begin stripping down from my clothes after starting the water early so it had time to heat up. Once it was to my liking, I stepped in and shut the glass door.

The water ran down my body, enveloping every small curve I had. I loved hot showers, it felt like every unwanted touch was swept away with the excess water that went down the drain. It felt amazing to be clean after work.

My shower lasted until the water started to get cold, which was around the forty-minute area.

I took my time drying myself off and getting dressed, picking out my most comfortable clothes to wear around the house for the day.

I ended up choosing a simple loose t-shirt, some track suit pants and nice warm socks.

I plopped myself down on the couch and propped up some pillows for my head. I opened up my laptop, and that was the moment I stopped moving.

I binge watched my favourite TV show on Netflix, getting through a whole two more seasons. Even though I slept until twelve in the afternoon, I am still terribly tired, and being so comfortable made me want to sleep, especially after eating snacks all day.

When I felt I could not physically keep my eyes open, I shut the lid to my laptop and placed it on the floor beside the couch. Almost instantly, I fell asleep.

•••

Just like this morning, my eyes fluttered open extremely slowly. I felt relaxed for once. I stretch and make a pretty inappropriate sound whilst doing so, and my gaze focuses on my surroundings.

It's dark.

It's really dark. Almost pitch black as a matter of fact.

I gasp to myself as I sit up, putting my weight on my arms as they're pushed against the couch underneath and behind me.

I fumble for my phone, my hands almost shaking in stress.

10:15.

I'm late.

My eyebrows shoot up and my eyes widen to a worrying extent. I stand up as quick as I fell asleep, rushing to my room and practically throwing my clothes off of my body, changing into the lingerie, then throwing a shirt and shorts over it, slipping on some white vans. I will have to quickly do my makeup when I get there.

I swipe my keys off the bench and pick up my bag, quickly slinging it over my shoulder and pushing the door open.

When I reach outside, goosebumps form on my arms and legs instantly. I can see my warm breath in the air as I rush to the car, slamming the door shut and driving off as quick as I possibly can.

As I arrive, I can already hear the music coming from inside the small building. There are strobe lights and the music is even louder on weekends.

I push the back door that leads to the dressing room open with such force and desperation to get inside. My head is down as I sprint into the room, only to be pushed backwards when I hit something hard in front of me.