BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Mng...where am I?"

Hearing the ever so hateful but familiar sound of an alarm, I slowly opened my eyes...

"...Is that a horse head?"

And the first thing I saw was a mask of a horse head. Some of its hair was missing from the mane as if pulled out and there were a few lipstick marks on the snout.

Laying beside the mask was an empty bottle of liquor.

"Damn, my head hurts… What the hell happened last night?"

Clutching my head that was throbbing because of my hangover and my attempted recollection of last night's events, I slowly started to get up from the floor. And while I was getting up, I noticed something else out of the ordinary…

"My clothes. Where the fuck is my clothes!"

I was wondering why my ass was feeling cold. It turns out I didn't have any clothes on whatsoever!

Dick was just dangling in the air!

Very quickly, I search my immediate area for clothes. I don't wanna be caught in the nude by someone else.

That'd be awkward.

"There they are!"

Luckily, it didn't take long to find my underwear. They were laying under a kitchen table.

...Wait, kitchen table?

"I'm in a kitchen?"

To make sure, I look around the area. There was a stove with pancake mix spilled all over it, a dishwasher, an old refrigerator, and a sink with dirty dishes…

Yep, I'm a kitchen, alright.

My kitchen.

As for how I know, it's because there's a picture of me back in my army days stuck on the fridge. It consists of me and my old ODA team.

Out of eleven of my squad members (excluding myself), only five of them are still alive. 

Life's crazy like that.

"Sigh, what a mess."

Looking at how messy things were in the kitchen, I said as I let out a lamentable sigh.

Because I live alone, I'm the only one here who has to clean all this up. 

Dammit, I knew I should've gotten a roommate.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"I should cut that off. It's making my headache worse."

Massaging my temples due to the throbbing pain that seemed to sync with every beep my alarm made, I walked towards the living room.

It didn't consist of anything fancy. Just a cheap gray living room suite, a used flat-screen TV, and two large Ikea bookcases filled with various books.

Right now, however, it was anything but that. 

On the couch and loveseat were the ripped clothes I wore last night, on and around the coffee table were empty beer cans of various brands, and on my TV was a paid program about selling jewelry.

Although I'm a person who doesn't necessarily complain about cleanliness, I can honestly say it's a pigsty in here.

"Looks like I won't be doing my daily run today."

Looking at my phone that read 4:30 in the morning after dismissing the alarm, I said to myself with a wry smile.

My usual mornings consist of getting up at 4:30 in the morning to eat breakfast, do thirty minutes worth of full-body exercises, run for two hours, coming back home to shower, stopping by my favorite cafe to get coffee, and then going to the university.

But since my place is trashed, I have no choice but to clean it up.

Sigh, woe is me.

***

"There! I'm done, with thirty minutes to spare!"

Staring at the now clean kitchen and living room, I said happily. And while I was cleaning up, I vaguely remembered what happened last night.

I was partying with my childhood friend, Nate. It was his 22nd birthday, so to celebrate It, we decided to go bar hopping and club prowling.

I talked to a few girls, got thrown out of a bar, somehow ended up DJing at a house party wearing a horse mask going by the name of Stallion, and ran from the cops as they crashed said party.

I also remember pissing on the side of a light pole trying to piss race my shadow.

...It was quite a night.

Anyways, after miraculously walking home with the horse head mask on my head in my drunken stupor, I entered my apartment. Feeling hungry, I tried to make pancakes but angrily stopped halfway after realizing that they weren't magically turning into puffy pancakes after pouring the dry pancake mix into a pan. 

Then, because I couldn't get my pancakes, I decided that the best way to cease my hunger is to drink. So, I grabbed the bottle of bourbon I had hidden away for special occasions, drank it till it was emptied, before finally stripping butt ass naked and falling asleep in the middle of the kitchen floor.

"...Looking back on it now, I feel a little embarrassed. I hope that horse head mask hid my identity well enough, I don't know what I'd do if I was recognized."

I don't plan on having another night like that anytime soon.

"I should go wash."

Smelling my arms I said with a frown. The smell of alcohol was so strong to the point that it was nauseating. So while still in my boxers, I head to the bathroom to shower.

***

"Meh, these will do."

After hopping out of the shower, I put on some clothes that consisted of a simple white t-shirt, a pair of Adidas track pants, and a pair of worn black sneakers. 

I had better clothes in the closet but since I'm in the process of getting over a hangover, I'll pass.

Plus, it's not like I'm trying to impress anybody at the university anyway. 

It's too much work. 

"Now, it's about time I hit the ro-"

BANG!

Before I could finish my sentence, the faint sound of a gunshot could be heard in the distance followed by the sound of sirens.

"Sigh, just a typical day in the southside Paradiso. Now, where's my watch."

Glancing out the window, I shrugged my shoulders at the occurrence that usually happens once or twice a week, started looking for my watch.

If I remember correctly, I took it off and placed it in my nightstand before leaving to go party with Nate.

"Which was the right thing to do considering how I acted last night."

Taking the watch out of my nightstand I said as I fastened It onto my left wrist. It was a Rolex Submariner. It had small scratches all over the glass, case, and bezel.

I have had this for over six years now. It's been with me throughout my military service and my government contracting. And during that time, it's been through shootouts, sandstorms, deep-sea diving, snow, mud, and blood.

I'm surprised it's still working.

But more than that, out of everything I have, this watch here is my most valuable item.

My mom gave it to me two years before she died of pancreatic cancer.

She gave it to me upon finishing Q-course as a graduation present.

'You didn't buy it so don't worry about getting it scratched.'

Handing the watch to me she continued with a smile.

'Wear it like you stole It.'

And wear it like I stole it I did.

Ever since then, I have worn it ever since.

If I lost this watch, I'd go crazy. 

It's the only thing left I have of her.

"Hopefully, by the time I get there, the line won't be so long."

Grabbing my helmet, gloves, keys, and backpack, I left my apartment with the hopes of being one of the very first people in line at the cafe I frequent.

***

"Fuck, that's bright."

Squinting my eyes and raising my hand to block the blinding rays of the rising sun, I walked to where my motorcycle was parked. 

Taking off the dust cover and unlocking the anti-theft lock, I placed them in the side pockets of my backpack.

Hopping on my motorcycle I put on my motorcycle gloves and helmet.

After that, I whipped out my phone and decided to choose what kind of music to listen to.

It took only a minute before deciding to listen to classical music.

Usually, I'd listen to the latest rap albums but today, I needed something soft to soothe my head.

"Ah!"

"Back off you bitch!"

All of a sudden, I heard a yell. Turning my head towards the noise, I saw a commotion in an alleyway across the street. Two men who I'm assuming to be crackheads were on the ground fighting with each other.

Probably over drugs.

"I said get off me! Agh!"

"Ahh!"

While one crackhead was trying to push off the other one, the latter bit him on the arm, drawing blood.

...That's my cue to leave. 

I don't want to be a witness and have to write a statement.

VROOM! VROOM!

Cranking my motorcycle up, I put in gear and drove off.

"Ahh!"

Hearing my motorcycle, the crazy crackhead leaves the man he bit and tries to chase after me. Fortunately, he wasn't fast enough to catch up with the bike. 

"Note to self: never do drugs. Except for weed. Weed is fine."

Taking a serious mental note of not doing hardcore drugs, I continue my way towards my favorite cafe.