The Four Seasons of Michael (Princess Diaries Fanfic)

September (2)

I opened my eyes, waking up. I hadn't even realized when I fell asleep. I was sitting on the floor, leaning on one of the bags.

Darkness was still around me. I felt for my phone, finding it a few inches from me. I looked at the time – it was only a few minutes past four. I hadn't slept long, but I didn't feel tired.

I got up, turning on a light. The sudden light irritated my eyes; I shielded them with my hand while squatting and opening bags, one after another, searching for blankets.

I finally found one. I went to the bedroom, only to remember I hadn't made the bed yet.

I sighed and went into the living room, thinking I could sleep on the couch. I threw the blanket on it and went looking for pillows. I went through all the closets in the apartment, but couldn't find any.

I decided to take towels from bags. I rolled them and put them under my head, pulling up the blanket. I closed my eyes, hoping the sleep would suck me back in.

It didn't. It was an early morning hour, and I had slept for only a few minutes. But I felt like I had slept for two days straight. I was turning around for the next two hours, getting more and more frustrated. At seven I finally kicked the blanket off me and got up. I took a shower, and despite feeling rested, I looked awful. My eyes were red, blood-shut, and my face was pale. There was nothing I could do about it, though.

I didn't need to be in the lab until ten, but I got dressed anyway. I glanced at the unpacked luggage, leaving it for later. I left the building and started wandering around Tsukuba. It was still early, but the city was waking up. I wished my enthusiasm too could come back, but it remained dearly departed. It was pathetic, really. I was on the verge of making something great, making history, even, and I had never felt gloomier.

I walked by countless diners. I remember wondering if people in Japan really ate noodles for breakfast. I wasn't in the mood to find out, I wasn't hungry. All I wanted was just to start working on the Cardioarm and get it over with. That prototype was the only thing I had left in life.

I arrived at the laboratory almost two hours early. To my surprise, I wasn't the first. Three people from my team were already there, drinking tea and looking over the plans. They offered me the pastry and we finished breakfast, and by ten o'clock the work was already in full swing.

I thought being in the laboratory, meeting my coworkers, working on my own invention would fill me with joy, make enthusiastic again. But I felt tired, still empty. It made me even angrier with myself.

I tried not to show it. I tried to shake it off, appear upbeat and excited. It seemed to be working.

It was only my first day, but I kept working, I would probably work late in the night, if it suddenly didn't strike me that as long as I was there, so were my coworkers. My conscience didn't allow me to stay in the lab any longer; I called it a day and wished everyone a pleasant evening.

On my way back to the apartment – whatever it was, it didn't feel like home – I stopped at McDonald's for a takeout. I didn't bother looking for plates. I just plugged in the TV – I didn't dare use my laptop, I didn't want to see pictures I surely would bump into – and while watching a game show I didn't understand I ate my dinner. The silence was settling in, taking me in, making me feel like the biggest failure again.

The last thought before falling asleep was wishing to hear her voice.

The sound of my phone ringing woke me up. I flinched, for a moment not knowing where I was. I sighed with disappointment when I realized it was all true.