Prologue

He suddenly felt the sun coming in through the bathroom windows and hitting his -still- closed eyelids. The only thing he wanted to do was sleep. God, how much he loved sleeping! He then turned to his right side and looked for his cell phone, or rather, his cell phone's clock:

9:45 A.M.

"Fuck."

He was supposed to be meeting his friend Gaby at 9:30 that morning, and he was already fifteen minutes late.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!", he thought. Those were the days he absolutely hated his excessive love for oversleeping. He saw he also had four missed calls and one message from her:

"Hey! Where are you at? I've been in here for a while."

Thank God he had already planned his outfit since the day before! He kind of had that trouble every single day before going to his job: "What should I wear?"; and knowing that same exact thing would bug him in the morning, he began wandering through his mind -and closet- what his clothing options were for the day the night before, when he called Gaby to meet her that morning. He had in mind wearing a pink shirt and told her so, but how was he supposed to do it? 

When he told her he was going to wear that, what he had in mind was this pale pink dress shirt which he sent to the dry cleaner's that week along with a purple one, but a few moments later he acknowledged he had no idea on how to match it; he had thought of pairing it with a blue blazer and a white knitted tie, but that matching wouldn't actually work, he quickly realized: The shirt is too pale, and the blazer is way too blue for it to match the right way. The tie's just right, so don't you worry about it at all. He then remembered it: his pink polo shirt. 

It was just… perfect! The pink had the same intensity as the blazer's blue, and the white tie would make quite the cool contrast, plus, it wouldn't make him look too pale, or too tanned(?), as he usually felt whenever he made a wrong clothing choice.

The thing he was bothered about it is that he had no actual clue on where his clothes were at that very moment. They all were in the floor, yes, but… where? (Mental note: do a cleaning session after his meeting with Gaby. A hardcore one)

"Gaby, call me back. Please call me back. I'm not leaving you stood up!" He begged, kinda shouted and said while he was getting inside his jeans. "Socks. Where the fuck are my socks at?!", he bitched. He only kept finding one sock, no complete pairs, until he could find one complete pair lost among other clothes he'd been wearing recently, but just thrown to the floor after he was done with them, and right before going to sleep.

He now went looking for his polo shirt, because, well… he couldn't leave the house without wearing a shirt, right? And even if he had a proper body to show off and could be allowed to do it, he would never accept the offer. He was just too fashionable for that. 

The goddamn shirt was finally found by his eyes. "Thank God!". He stared at it for a few moments, noticing something that bothered him quite a lot: it was wrinkled. "Fuck it", he thought, and put that thing on. He could do it without no one (or at least not too many people) noticing it; he would be wearing a blazer, and most of the wrinkles were at the back of the shirt, so he had to take the blazer off him for anyone to notice, and he was sure he wouldn't even think of doing that: he would never commit that sort of a fashion atrocity. Ever.

But he was worrying about other things other than fashion-related mistakes (yes, he's capable of doing that). All this time he had been debating about what and what not to wear, the shoes that would be the perfect addition to the outfit, his hair getting done right and some other clothing-related stuff, he was also beginning to get worried about his friend: What is Gaby thought she had been stood up, and that he would never meet her, at least that day? What if she was mad? What if she had already left while he was still worried about getting there in time? What if she-?

His cell phone vibrated.

INCOMING CALL: GABY.

Yes.

"Gaby! I'm so sorry for being late, I'll be there in a few, I promise! And I'll explain what happened when I get there, just wait for me 10 more minutes, please!"

"It's OK sweetie, don't worry!" He heard her smiling through the phone "I'll be waiting in here! See you in a few!"

"OK, see ya then!"

He sighed deeply, feeling relieved. 

He sprayed lotion all over himself, fixing the tiniest details about his hair, looking himself at the mirror for one last time, checking he was all right and his outfit was completely flawless. 

"So… cash, keys, sunnies, laptop… ready!"

He was no longer worried about Gaby letting him stood up, picking a bad outfit, or trying to leave the house with his keys nowhere to be found (which happened quite a lot, actually), but he had a feeling going on from his head to his stomach; one he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Even though, he noticed this feeling was nothing like other feelings he had ever felt. This was, actually, his first time feeling like this.

But… why? He hadn't done anything out from the ordinary, or at least not yet, so why was he feeling that? It wasn't the sudden happiness he felt whenever something of his doing turned out to be great, neither was he feeling something near nervousness or something alike. Besides, he not just felt it, but knew this was something different from the moment he got out of bed and started getting dressed: he knew this day, from all of them, was going to be completely different from the rest of the week; he kind of felt like the movies at its very beginning. He had the feeling this day was going to be the one which would set a start to his new life, or rather, completely change it.

And, damn, was he right.