Normal

Zade

When I wake, I feel like utter shit—not that it’s anything new. I always feel like this when I wake. Dragging myself out of bed, I stagger into the bathroom. A cold shower jolts me awake, not to clean myself, but to shock my mind into starting. It does little for the filth that clings to my soul, but at least it wakes me up. Afterward, I throw on some joggers and head to the gym.

For the next hour, I force my body to wake up, trying to sweat out the whiskey from last night. Each punch, each rep, drives the darkness a little further away. The memories, the guilt—they fade, at least for a while. By the end of it, I’m not clearheaded, but I can function. I can step out into the world and pretend like everything’s fucking perfect.

Back in my room, I shower again—this time for real. I put on the suit, adjust the tie, and head downstairs.

Stepping into the kitchen, I grab a coffee, the smell grounding me. My eyes catch Grayson sitting at the table. "You’re up early, considering everyth