Sebastian woke up to the noise of glass shattering on an unknown surface. He wasn't shocked; too often he was yanked from unconsciousness by the sounds of struggle. But lost sleep never failed to bring out the worst of his plentiful fury.
He woke instantly and angrily, angry enough to grit his teeth, if they weren't already clenched in his sleep. His eyes blinked open, and he glared daggers at the ceiling, as if blaming it for the disturbance. Ironically, the problem was coming from the exact opposite direction.
He threw the quilt off himself with an extravagant flourish of his arm, and swung his legs off the bed to meet the carpet. When he stood, he realized with a grimace he was standing on something cold and mushy. Quickly, it became apparent it was a leftover slice of pizza he had failed to see previously in the dark of his apartment. He removed his foot from the molding food and dragged it across the carpet, removing the gooey residue.
Previous reason for frustration not forgotten, he made his way carefully across the cluttered one-room apartment, eyes finally adjusting to the dim light the barely risen sun offered. He found the broom, resting against the wall opposite from his bed. He never used it to clean: only to complain.
Gripping the broom with both hands, bristles to the ceiling, he slammed the long handle into the floor several times. The resounding bangs interrupted the drunk shouting match occurring one floor below.
"Would you kindly shut up?!" Sebastian shouted, his voice jumping up an octave. He hated that about himself. Whenever he tried to be loud and menacing, his voice betrayed him and escalated into a squeal.
The bartender downstairs gave a hearty laugh. "Quit yer whining, kid!" Other patrons joined in the laughter, feud out of mind.
Sebastian bit his tongue, recognizing a lost cause when he sees one. He threw the broom to the floor with a clatter and leaped back under his quilt. He growled at the display on his alarm clock: 4:37am.
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