"Shit, shit, shit." Sterling sat bolt upright in bed in a panic as his alarm screamed from the bedside table. Checking the time, he swore again as he climbed out of bed; he should have been ready to leave over half an hour ago, but thanks to too much alcohol and a few nerve-calming blunts the night before, he'd slept through his alarm twice and was now running late.
Moving through his morning routine at a speed he considered unnatural for so early in the morning, Sterling decided to bypass a shower and settled for a quick wash. Looking at his bloodshot eyes in the cracked mirror above the grimy bathroom sink, he noticed how the redness highlighted the blue that an ex, Rhiannon, had once described as reminding her of 'the flames on Hades' head in the Disney film, Hercules'. It had been yelled at him on the day she kicked him out of her flat five years previously, claiming he loved beer and weed more than he loved her. She’d been wrong, but at least she’d been creative about it.
Splashing cool water on his warm skin and running his wet hands through his dirty blond hair, he pushed the memory out of his mind and finished washing before rushing back into his room to get dressed.
8:45 a.m.
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