I woke up on my back, groggy, with the sensation of something once wet now dried and cracked across my face. I blinked a few times, trying to bring the world into focus. The white popcorn ceiling greeted me. A thin ray of early morning sunlight slipped through a gap in the curtain, casting a soft glow above my head.

  Probably should get up, I thought reluctantly. After sleeping in the exact same position all night, my body wasn’t ready to move let alone get out of bed. I always wondered what it would feel like to wake up and not feel like I was eighty years old. Alright, Mara. You can do this, I told myself. I took a deep breath and tried to move. Tried being the key word. I managed maybe a fraction of an inch. One more try, I groaned. Five minutes of agonizing inching later, I finally came out victorious.

  “Such a hassle.” I muttered, threading my fingers together and stretching my arms over my head. My back cracked in several places trying its best to relieve the pressure. When the pain started to dissipate, I yawned loudly, covering my mouth with one hand. My other hand fumbled around the nightstand in search of my phone. Once found, I held it in front of my face, pressing the power button twice before it finally decided it wanted to show the screen. Although it did turn on, the image flickered in quick succession, dimmed, then finally revealed the night sky background I had installed.

  “Ancient piece of shit,” I mumbled, stifling another yawn. The more awake I got, the heavier the exhaustion became. Dream?walking came with a price- I never felt refreshed. I assumed from past research it had something to do with never hitting a real REM cycle. I may dream, technically, but they’re always someone else’s dreams, not mine. And there wasn’t a fix for that.

  I set the phone on my lap and rubbed my eyes. My vision was still blurry, refusing to adjust to the blinding light. After a few minutes, my eyes finally cooperated enough to look at the screen without squinting. The date and time, half?hidden behind several cracks, came into view. It was just after nine a.m., too late to go back to sleep. I still had a few hours to kill before my part?time job at noon.

  I groaned and let the phone slip out of my hands. What I really craved was real sleep for once – a chance to shut my brain off. Instead, I forced myself out of bed, knowing I’d just keep drowning in my own thoughts if I stayed there. I ran a hand through my messy hair, absently scratching my stomach under my loose tank top. I padded across the room, opened the door, and peeked out into the hallway.

  The smell of coffee- bitter, strong, with a hint of hazelnut – tickled my nose. My roommate, Reese, must have already gotten up. How he could be awake so early after stumbling in drunk at two a.m. baffled me. It was like he ran on a different internal clock, or he was just so high?strung he could roll out of bed looking like a runway model. My bare feet slapped against the wooden floor as I crossed to the bathroom. Inside, the pristine white almost hurt my eyes. I closed the door with a soft click behind me and moved to the sink.

  The first order of business was cleaning up the drool. It wasn’t just plastered on my face- it had run down my neck. I couldn’t walk around looking like a disgusting mess, even if that’s exactly how I felt. I turned the faucet on, bent over the sink, and splashed cold water against my skin. I scrubbed the mess off with my fingers, wondering why I’d drooled so damn much. So disgusting. I reached for a towel, then paused when my reflection caught my eye in the mirror

  My hair, a deep chestnut brown, curled around my head in unruly waves- the kind that made me look like Medusa’s long?lost sister. My eyes stared back at me, a deep stormy gray, and they looked as weary as I felt. The worst part, though, was how my skin looked under the fluorescent light. I was practically glowing, like some kind of Crypt Keeper knockoff. A little sunlight would probably fix it and make me feel halfway human again. Between working at the café and taking classes, I rarely had the chance to actually see the sun.

  “Damn,” I muttered, scrubbing my face with the towel. “I look like shit.”

  When I was done, I tossed the towel across the room, surprised when it actually landed in the hamper. Maybe today would be a good day, I thought as I opened the door and stepped back into the hallway. I debated for half a second about getting dressed, the pull of coffee was strong enough to override any desire to look presentable.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I entered the kitchen with a speed that would make Olympic runners jealous. Reese sat on the kitchen island, sipping an already half?empty mug of coffee. He looked up from his phone with a smile, brown eyes twinkling. Bastard, I thought bitterly as I crossed the room. I opened a cabinet and pulled out a coffee cup. He has absolutely no right to look that handsome this early in the day.

  “Morning, Mar,” Reese said, his tenor sing?song voice echoing far too cheerily for my sluggish brain.

  “Morning,” I answered, filling up the mug. The sweet aroma had my mouth watering, begging for a taste. I poured in some creamer, then claimed the stool across from him.

  “Tell me how the hell you’re functioning right now.” I peered at him over my mug. “Please, share your unending pool of wisdom.”

  “Because,” he laughed, flipping his hair dramatically back from his face, “I have the stamina of a newborn calf.”

  “Right,” I said, trying not to choke on the coffee. “You got in super late last night.”

  “I’m built for movement, babes.” He put a hand on his heart. “You know I can live through anything, stay awake for days, and still be this hot.”

  “Shut up.” I laughed, wishing I’d sat next to him so I could kick some sense into the small brain of his. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Perhaps,” he leaned forward, elbows propped on the counter. “My secret weapon is Noah, though.”

  “Ah, sure. Makes total sense.” I rolled my eyes.

  Whenever he couldn’t think of anything smart, dramatic, witty, or funny, he defaulted to using his boyfriend as an excuse. He got an A on his paper? Noah somehow materialized out of the void, wearing a speedo, and offering Reese cookies of knowledge. He missed work and forgot to call but the boss was fine with it? Noah’s aura basked him in such a strong light that the manager was blinded by the glow. It didn’t make sense to the logical mind, but since I knew Noah very well, I could almost get behind that logic- if Noah himself had shown up to apologize on Reese’s behalf.

  While the situations, and Reese’s thought process was a bit unconventional, Noah was a sweetheart. The fact that they were together had to either be a cosmic joke or he did something so grand in his past life, the galaxy felt he deserved Noah. The two were polar opposites. Where Reese was the physical embodiment of chaos incarnate- boisterous, loud, and unforgiving, Noah was quiet, sweet, and gentle. Noah would never harm a soul.

  “Speaking of Noah,” I began, glancing around the pristine apartment.

  The white walls were spotless, and the brown-and-gold kitchen tile was so shiny that you could see every grain of the swirling pattern. Everything in the kitchen gleamed. The fridge, usually a dull off-yellow, looked like it had been meticulously cleaned with love. I wasn’t a slacker when it came to cleaning, but this polish was all Noah. He was a bit of a germaphobe and a compulsive cleaner.

  “I haven’t seen him in a week. Is he okay?”

  “Oh, of course. My chérie is bright and beautiful as always,” he took a sip from his mug, brow knitting together. “It burnt me.” He pushed the cup away gingerly. “How rude. I swear there’s always a random hot spot no matter how long I let it sit.”

  “That’s probably because you offended the coffee gods somehow.” I smirked, not mentioning if he hadn’t gone all doe-eyed about Noah, he would have had the foresight to blow on it.

  “Probably,” he agreed, staring down the cup.

  Seeing Reese’s disdain reminded me of last night's dream. The pencil that turned into a coffee cup, the man fighting the paper. I choked on my coffee, sputtering for breath. Reese tore his eyes from the mug, face concerned.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I waved him off, finally catching my breath. “I’m good.”

  “If you’re sure…” Reese trailed off as his phone vibrated against the counter. He lifted it quickly, smiling at whatever message he was seeing. “I gotta go.” He sprung up and walked quickly across the room toward the front door. “I’ll text you tonight if I’m going to stay at Noah’s or not.”

  “If I get it,” I replied.

  “Right.” Reese paused, hand on the knob. “You seriously need to get a new phone. How many texts don’t come through now? Five, six – all of them?”

  “The latter.” I shrugged, knowing I needed a new phone, but refusing to purchase one. I wasn’t attached to it; I absolutely hated it with a passion. It turned off constantly, would vibrate for no reason, and sometimes played the obnoxious preloaded ringtones. Money was tight, and I didn’t have two hundred dollars to spend on a new one.

  Reese sighed, defeated. “Love you, Mar. Good luck at work today.”

  “You too, Reese.” I managed before he left our small apartment, closing the door behind him.

  I finished my coffee and washed both our mugs. Reese’s habit of not cleaning up after himself was reminiscent of a teenager. We were the same age, but his lack of self awareness irritated me. It doesn’t matter. Not really. I’d known him long enough that it was only a mild annoyance. I had a while left before work and nothing school-related until the new semester started. I walked to my room and pulled out some clothing for a shower. Everything about today seemed fine, almost normal.

  If only my life would have remained that way.