[h3][color=#90adb1]Marcus Bradley[/color][/h3] [sup]Location: Bedroom -> [color=f26522]Hallway[/color]
[/sup][hr]

Groggily, Marcus rolled over, then pleaded with himself to continue sleeping. Every time he glanced at the clock time advanced but he was awake enough to glance at the clock in the first place. Five-- six twenty-- six thirty two-- seven-- seven ten-- eleven-- twelve-- Marcus growled as the clock read seven thirteen. He knew that he was not going to be sleeping any harder than this anymore. Slowly he sat up then stared at the television. After grabbing the remote, he began sifting through the applications, then settled on one that implied it was a music player. The icon didn't have any words beneath it but the icon itself was a set of paired eighth notes. 

Scrolling through a list of "stations" made Marcus feel as if he weren't a fan of anything anymore. He hated the feeling of not being able to decide what to listen to or the feeling that no song fit the mood. Still, he reassured himself that since he was half-asleep this was acceptable. Yawning, Marcus selected the 'Classical' station, pretentiously noting that a station name like this captured too broad of a genre but the Metal and Rock type music had been divided down enough for specifics, then [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LOFhsksAYw]listened to the song briefly[/url]. With a hum, he cranked the music volume up up, then headed toward the bathroom. Marcus reasoned that if spent enough time in the shower, it'd be time to wake up or whatever by the time he got out. 

He opened the bathroom door. 
He [i]immediately[/i] closed the bathroom door. 

Taking a step back, Marcus took a deep breath, then planted his face in his hands. The bathroom was covered in his vomit from the night before, still. He was immediately disgusted by the scene and whatever depraved instinct bid him to ignore the vomit and shower anyway. [color=#90adb1][i]Nothing a little air freshener couldn't cure, right?[/i][/color] Shadow Marcus said within the confines of his own mind. He always liked to say that there was a 'Shadow Marcus' whom these terrible thoughts belonged to but Marcus forced himself to own up to the fact that he was, indeed, about to shower with a puddle of puke within close proximity. Marcus muffled the voice within that tried to convince him to clean it up as he stripped then tiptoed around the vomit.

After a shower that didn't make him feel clean [i]at all[/i], Marcus dressed himself. He sat upon the bed and listened to music, fully staring off into the depths of the void, in awe yet horridly aware of what he'd just done, when a rather insistent alarm went off-- oh, the wake up. Marcus didn't budge. He found himself noticeably not hungry then figured that was because-- well, it was obvious, wasn't it? Wading through a river of vomit has probably never helped anyone's appetite, he figured. [i]Probably[/i], he desperately hoped, only managing to make himself cringe more at the thought. He wanted to distance himself from the bathroom or at least get something solid between himself and his [i]sins[/i]. Marcus exited his room, shut the door behind himself, then sat down in the hallway, once more staring into the distance absently.