Chapter 2: The Morning Shower And…An Unknown Number? (1)

Feeling the weight on his chest has become lighter than before, he casually hit the end call and tossed the phone to the side.

While absentmindedly staring at the ceiling once again, his mind replayed the conversation that he had with Marco earlier and by inadvertently comparing it to the past experience he had with that guy, Victor couldn't help but burst into a chuckle. "Despite looking like a tough-looking guy, you're such a softie."

As he immerses in the emotions, Victor soon notices some smell coming from his body and takes a small whiff of it. 

"Urghh…That's stink" He groaned, his face crumbled from the backlash of the smell. "I definitely need a shower right now."

Throwing the covers back, Victor swung his legs over the edge of the bed with a groan. He then stretched his arms over his head, letting out a low groan as his spine popped satisfyingly. 

"Ugh, getting old is no joke," he muttered, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the tension.

After a couple of minutes, Victor gets up from the bed feeling the cool touch of the hardwood floor beneath his feet. He then navigated through the dimly lit room to find the switch for the lights. 

"Goddammit, my eyes…" Victor groans, blinking against the sudden brightness after turning on the lights, and quickly makes his way to the door.

Reaching for the doorknob, he paused. A strange heavy feeling settled in his chest once again causing him to wonder the reason that nightmare reappeared again after a long time.

"No, no, it is just a dream," he muttered to himself, forcing his grip to loosen. "Just a damn bad dream."

But a nagging voice in the back of his head wouldn't be silenced. What if the dream meant something? What if it was a sign of bad things to come? He scoffed at the superstitious thought, but it clung to him like a burr.

Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, he forcibly pushed the thought aside in his mind and left the room after reaching for the doorknob again and opening it.

Along the small journey, he noticed a small soft glow emanating in the hallway mirror and went to it. Standing in front of the mirror and looking at the reflection, he can see the image of his tired disheveled self.

"Great, I look like I've been in a wrestling match with my pillow all night," he muttered under his breath, looking unimpressed by it. As Victor was rubbing any remnants of sleep from his eyes that remained with a tired hand, he also took a moment to assess his appearance in the mirror. 

After letting out a resigned sigh, Victor continued his journey to the bathroom, a quiet mumbled commentary accompanying his movements. "Why do mornings have to be so tiring?"

Despite his protest, the universe remained indifferent, continuing its daily routine.

"Urgh…cold!" He exclaimed, involuntarily crossing his hands against each other due to the morning coldness that struck him the second he entered the bathroom.

Huumm Huuumm

The ventilation fan made a soft hum alongside the bathroom being lit up after Victor had turned on a switch that was located nearby.

"Let's hope I didn't drop the soap in the shower last night," he jokingly said, doing his best to adapt to the cold.

As Victor walked near the sink while undressing himself, he casually stared at the neatly folded towels on the rack and a couple of skincare products that were on the sink. 

With a casual toss, he threw the clothes into the laundry hamper located in between the rack and sink. He then stepped into the shower after turning the handle on and patiently waited for the perfect temperature. 

As steam began to rise, the shower transformed into a warm embrace. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as Victor tested the water with his hand, feeling the cool sensation.

"Ah, that's the stuff," Victor sighed, letting out a low moan of relief as the tension in his muscles started to melt away as he stepped fully into the shower.

Reaching for the shelf in the shower, his fingers brushed against the familiar cool bottles of shampoo and body wash. He paused, picking up the sleek, lavender-scented body wash. A soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"Lavender Fields," he murmured, reading the name on the bottle. For a moment, in his mind, he was transported back years ago before the incident. He could practically smell the fragrant steam swirling around him, feel the warmth of the shower water cascading down his back.

"Victor, are you serious?" a voice, unmistakably Amelia's, echoed in his memory. "You're telling me you've never used anything other than that generic stuff?"

He'd rolled his eyes at the time, a playful defiance in his tone. "It cleans me, doesn't it?"

"Barely," Amelia had retorted, a playful shove sending him off balance against the shower wall. 

"Here, try this." 

She'd thrust the lavender-scented bottle into his hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

He'd grumbled under his breath but secretly enjoyed the way her touch lingered on his skin. He'd used a dollop of the unfamiliar body wash, the scent filling the shower with a calming aroma.

"Whoa," he'd admitted, surprised by the way it lathered and left his skin feeling soft. "Okay, this stuff is actually…nice."

The memory brought a smile to his face. It wasn't just the body wash; it was the little moments, the playful arguments, the way Amelia always seemed to know exactly what he needed, even before he did.

He shook his head, dispelling the reverie. 

"Alright, enough with the sappy memories," he muttered to himself. He squeezed a generous amount of the lavender body wash onto his hand, the scent offering a pleasant contrast to the warm steam swirling around him. The tiled enclosure echoed with the sound of water droplets as he rinsed away the suds.

Next in line was the shampoo, its scent a harmonious blend of pine and citrus filled the air with a fragrant freshness as he lathered his hair.

Suddenly, the water pressure dropped, and the hot stream turned lukewarm. "Ugh, no! Not now!" he yelled.

"This is the third time this happened this month!" Victor scowled, switching the handle back and forth between hot and cold, trying to coax some heat back into the water.

"Come on, people! work with me here!" He imagined someone downstairs taking a long shower, stealing all the hot water. "Share some of the wealth with me!"

A moment later, a scalding wave slammed into him. He yelped, hopping back with a curse. "Okay, okay, geez! Guess lukewarm it is. Damn it."

Despite that small mishap he experienced, Victor continued to enjoy a blissful shower and after a while, he reluctantly turned off the shower before stepping out with droplets clinging to his rejuvenated skin. 

"Oh man, that felt really refreshing," he blurted, still shivering a little, and quickly grabbed the towel that was nearby.

After carefully wiping his hair and his entire body, Victor wraps the towel around his waist, the damp cotton clinging pleasantly to his skin.

As he relished the release of tension in his muscles and heard some satisfying pop coming from his body, he noticed something interesting.

"Huh… I didn't expect my body to be this stiff." Victor said, looking at himself and understanding that the hot water seemed to have done some wonders for his tense muscles, leaving him feeling looser and more awake, although the fatigue still lingered in his eyes.

He shuffled over to the sink, the tile floor cool beneath his bare feet. Reaching for his toothbrush, he paused, noticing the toothpaste tube was nearly empty near it.

"Ah right, I forgot. Damn it" Victor muttered, picking it up and giving it a gentle squeeze. A meager dollop of white and green stripes emerged, barely enough for one last brush. He grimaced. "Mental note – add toothpaste to the damn shopping list."

Victor applied the meager amount of toothpaste to the brush head and threw the toothpaste tube into the trashcan after ensuring it was empty. He brought it to his mouth and started his usual routine, meticulously brushing each quadrant of his teeth. As he focused on his brushing, his internal monologue continued. 

"Maybe I should invest in an electric toothbrush," he mused, picturing those fancy models with all the bells and whistles. "But then I gotta deal with charging stations and replacement heads. Oh man, that would be a hassle."

Halfway through, he realized he was zoning out again.

"Focus, idiot," he scolded himself. "Continue brushing and stop daydreaming about the pros and cons of electric toothbrushes."

He switched to the backs of his teeth, the bristles scraping slightly against his gums. "Gotta be gentle there," he muttered, wincing slightly.

As he carefully scrubbed the backs of his teeth, his mind then wandered back to the conversation with Marco. A genuine laugh escaped his lips at the thought of his friend's grumbling about burnt battery acid.

"Alright, Marco," he said, more to himself than anyone, "Challenge accepted. Today, you're getting a decent cup of coffee, even if it kills me."

He spat the minty residue into the sink and rinsed his mouth, the minty taste momentarily refreshing his sleep-addled brain. Victor grabbed a small bottle of mouthwash, swirling the blue liquid around his mouth before spitting it out dramatically into the sink.

With a final rinse and a satisfied grunt, he finished his oral hygiene routine. Leaning against the sink, he looked at his reflection again. 

"Not bad," he said, examining his handiwork before becoming silent as he stared at his own face. His hair, damp and unruly, clung to his forehead, sleep lines etched around his eyes, making him look rougher than usual.

A sigh escaped him. Shaking his head, he reached for a fresh towel hanging beside the sink. This one, unlike the one used for his body, was a little smaller. He wrapped it around his head, roughly rubbing at the damp strands. The cool cotton felt comforting against his warm skin.

When he felt that he had wiped his hair dry enough, Victor tossed the damp towel onto the rack with a sigh. It landed haphazardly, snagged on a corner of another towel. 

"Ugh, I'll deal with that later," he muttered, looking at it before glancing at the mirror and a thought soon raced in his mind.

"Yeah, this messy mop on top definitely needs a trim," he muttered, running a hand through his already mussed hair. The damp strands clumped together, the ends looking split and unruly. "But not today. Maybe next weekend."

To Be Continued