I Should've Known

Chapter Eleven - Confused.

Chapter Eleven: Confused.

“Ed!” Ed heard his manager call him from outside of his room. Stuart knocked loudly on his door, making the redhead wince as he turned away from the window and stared at the closed door, his thoughts distracted. “Get up! You’ve got a big day ahead of you!”

“I’ve been up for, like, thirty minutes, Stu,” Ed replied calmly before sipping more coffee from his mug and turning back to the window. “And you don’t have to scream. It’s like six-thirty in the morning.”

Stuart slammed the door open without permission from the redhead and entered his room. Ed sighed, looking away from the window once again to watch Stuart on his doorstep. He noted his manager’s wrinkled clothing and the lines on his face (specifically on his left cheek) which was probably from the creases of his pillows and bed sheets. The older man looked rugged and haggard.

“You haven’t showered yet, have you?” his manager asked him, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Uh, nope.”

“Haven’t I told you yesterday that you’ve got to wake up early today and move as quick as you can for your gig a few hours later?” Stuart ran a hand over his balding head, looking exasperated.

“No, you didn’t.”

Stuart cussed loudly before saying, “Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t tell me anything, Stu,” Ed insisted.

He swore once again. “Look, Edward Christopher Sheeran, I want you to answer me seriously—”

“Oh, come on, Stu. Loosen up a bit!” Ed exclaimed with a grin, tapping Stuart on his shoulder, but the older man shrugged his hand away, glaring at him. But this didn’t upset the young artist. Ed hugged his manager’s shoulders, turning both of them towards the window. “It’s time for you to wipe all those wrinkles on your face away and smile at the new day.”

Stuart tried to push him away. Cursing once more, he snapped, “I’ve got no time for this—”

“Having a bad morning?” the redhead teased him, completely ignoring what he said.

“Don’t push me, Sheeran. I barely slept unlike you who slept like a log,” Stuart snapped, massaging his temple with his fingers. “I’ve been up until three in the morning because of my insomnia, and it’s fucking annoying the hell out of me.”

An orange eyebrow of Ed was raised high up his forehead. “You’re suffering from insomnia?”

“Yes,” he grunted. “Never knew that until last night.”

“Do you need a massage or something?”

“That would be nice, but no thanks.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve got sleeping pills to help you get back to sleep?”

“No.”

“Do you need sleeping pills so that you could get back to sleep?”

“Probably.”

“Do you want me to get sleeping pills for you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you want to go back to your bed and sleep?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you get sleeping pills for yourself so that you could go back to your bed and sleep?”