Breaking Routine II

 Grey's POV 

The night at the club had taken an unexpected turn, one that I couldn't have predicted. The more I indulged in the unfamiliar drinks, the more I found myself letting loose, and for the first time, I was experiencing a sense of freedom I had never allowed myself before. I was actually having fun.

However, as the night wore on, one of the club girls seated next to me decided it was a good idea to unbuckle my belt. Her touch was uncomfortably intimate caressing my crotch, and it triggered a deep-seated discomfort within me. I pushed her away, firmly stating, "Don't touch me."

The girl let out a fake cry, a melodramatic display that suggested I had tried to harass her. Suddenly, a stranger from across the room took it upon himself to be her protector. He stormed over and aimed a punch at me, which I swiftly countered.

What had begun as a night of unexpected revelry quickly devolved into chaos as a brawl erupted in the club. The arrival of police vans signaled the end of my ill-fated adventure. Finn, with his knack for escaping trouble, had managed to slip away, but I found myself in the back of a police car, headed for a night in a cold, unforgiving jail cell.

For the next 24 hours, I had the dubious privilege of contemplating my actions from behind bars. It was a stark reminder of the world I had so adamantly tried to distance myself from.

When I finally had the chance to make a call, I reached out to my ever-capable assistant, Blue. She bailed me out of jail, her silence during the ride home telling me that she had many questions and concerns. It was clear she was struggling to reconcile the image of her meticulously organized boss with the man who had been arrested in a club brawl.

As we pulled up to my home, I made one thing clear to Blue: this incident was to remain confidential. She nodded in understanding.

"Mr. Grey, you have a meeting tomorrow morning at 8 am," she reminded me. "I was able to convince Joe Hotels to reschedule."

I had indeed missed a day at work, a rarity for me, but it was clear that the consequences of my night out were far-reaching. I couldn't help but reflect on the choices I had made and the price I had paid for a night of liberation, courtesy of my ever-persistent brother, Finn.

The aftermath of my disastrous night at the club continued to haunt me. Finn hadn't reached out, and I couldn't help but dwell on how wrong it had been to heed his suggestion. Finn had always been the reckless, irresponsible one in the family, consistently putting himself or others in trouble and then finding ways to evade the consequences. His reaction to my arrest didn't surprise me; it was classic Finn.

The morning after my night in jail, for the first time in my life, I overslept. My alarm had been ringing incessantly, and I had missed numerous calls and texts from Blue, my assistant. It was as though the universe was conspiring against me, punishing me for my irresponsible behavior.

I rushed through my morning routine, showered, and dressed in record time. I was running late, and the rush of emotions from the night before still weighed heavily on my mind.

As I drove to work, I encountered a strange incident. An elderly woman was slowly crossing the road, and my patience was running thin. The blaring horns of impatient drivers behind me only added to my frustration. I couldn't understand why she was taking so long.

In my haste, I yelled at her, and as if in slow motion, she stumbled and fell to the ground, her groceries scattering. She began to sob, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. It was incidents like these that fueled my irritation toward women, who often appeared or even pretended to be vulnerable and helpless.

Angrily, I shoved her off the road without a second thought, not caring about her fallen groceries. "Hey," she called out to me, her voice quivering, "I wish you would know how it is to be helpless and vulnerable like me."

I scoffed at her words and climbed back into my car. Without any remorse, I drove away, even carelessly running over her scattered groceries with my car's tires.

As I arrived at the office, I found everyone gathered calmly, attentively watching the presentation taking place. I strode into the meeting room with my usual air of authority, nodding in acknowledgment to Mr. Joe. Our new secretary,Phil, had clearly delivered an impressive presentation, and the satisfied grin on Mr. Joe's face told me all I needed to know.

The presentation concluded, and Mr. Joe smiled at me, indicating his keen interest in the partnership. He promptly signed the contract agreement, and the elation I felt was undeniable. It was a resounding success, and I couldn't help but feel the rush of triumph that came with it.

After the meeting, I returned to my office, and Blue, my assistant, entered. It was evident from her expression that she had questions, but I wasn't one to provide unsolicited explanations.

I inquired about Finn's presence at work, and Blue informed me that he hadn't been seen for over two days. She was understandably excited about our newly sealed partnership contract, and I found myself on the verge of giving her a compliment and expressing gratitude. But being the stoic boss that I was, I simply acknowledged her efforts, saying, "You did a great job."

I decided to be a little more generous, informing her, "You can take the day off tomorrow." A smile of appreciation crept across her face as she left the office.

After a long day at the office, I returned home in the evening, adhering to my usual routine. The process was uneventful, as I went through the familiar motions of organization and cleanliness. I made dinner, completed a few work-related tasks, and eventually retired to my well-ordered bedroom.

In the dimly lit room, I went through my nightly routine, double-checking everything was in its designated place. As I got into bed, I couldn't help but marvel at how the universe had an odd way of balancing order and chaos.

******************************************************

The next morning, the alarm rang, pulling me from my deep slumber. With a series of loud yawns and stretching, I groggily slipped my feet into my bedside slippers and began the routine trek to the bathroom to begin my morning regimen.

But something was amiss.

As I stood before the bathroom mirror, toothbrush in hand, I couldn't help but notice that my reflection was off, different in a way that defied logic. My eyes widened in disbelief, and I desperately sought to rationalize what I was seeing.

Thinking I might be hallucinating due to fatigue, I splashed my face with water, hoping that the distorted image in the mirror would clarify. But it remained unchanged. Desperation and disbelief mounting, I quickly wiped the mirror clean and then, with a sense of profound confusion, I delivered a resounding slap to my own face.

That's when it happened.

I let out a scream that could have shattered glass and woken the entire neighborhood.

It was as if I were trapped in some sort of bizarre nightmare. What I saw in the mirror was beyond explanation or comprehension.