It's not something he liked to talk about, and he really didn't need to ever. He had lived alone, after all, and there's no one to see or hear him at night. But then Hat Films started, and they all moved together in one place, and suddenly he became even more aware of night troubles.
"Yo Ross, which bedroom do you want?" Smith asked when they were unpacking all of their stuff into their new home. "There's two bedrooms upstairs and one downstairs, and I figured I'd be nice and let you have first pick."
"Wow, so generous of you," Ross said, rolling eyes. "I'll have the one downstairs."
"So either you're afraid of heights or you don't want to be anywhere near me and Trott while sleeping," Smith joked, but Ross thought he saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes.
"Yeah, something like that."
The first night went great for him; everything went fine and his sleep was uninterrupted.
"Mornin' Ross," Smith said sleepily, yawning as he went down the stairs.
"Morning!" he responded happily. "Want me to make you any breakfast? I've got eggs and toast on already for myself, but I could throw on a few more."
"Gee, thanks mate." Smith watched as Ross bustled over to the fridge. "Who put happy cream in your coffee this morning? You're way too happy right now."
"Just a nice sleep, that's all."
"Hey, throw on a few more eggs and some bacon for me, will you Ross?" Trott said, having made it to the kitchen without anyone noticing.
"No, fuck off, I'm not your fucking butler mate!" Ross said, grinning while slapping some bacon on.
"Thanks, my butler."
The second night wasn't as great. There wasn't any jumping out of windows, but it wasn't all peace and quiet either.
"Hey, Ross!" Smith said, not looking up from his coffee and phone.
"'Ornin'," he grunted in response.
At this, Smith looked up.
"Jesus, you look pretty knackered. What happened?"
"Not a great night, but I can recover." Ross grabbed the coffee that was on the table.
"Yeah, I made that for you when I didn't see you up." Smith watched as the man next to him take a few gulps of the blackish liquid. "You're welcome," he added.
Ross lowered the cup and raised it in a mock toast. "Cheers mate, it's just like I always like it."
"What can I say, I pay attention." Smith suddenly looked away, observing the stove top, but Ross didn't notice.
Suddenly they heard a series of thuds as Trott made his way down the stairs.
"What, no breakfast waiting for me this time? Butler?"
The third night was definitely worse. He shot out of bed, and felt the familiar but inevitable horror and fear take over his mind and in his mind's eye he saw his sheets become an indescribable threat. He couldn't sleep too well after that, and the next morning his arms were sore.
"Wow mate, now you're really looking pretty shit. You all right?" Smith said, two cups of coffee already in front of him and some toast in the toaster.
"Eh, I'm fine." Ross said, chugging down the liquid energy.
They fell into a comfortable silence, and Trott came down the stairs soon afterwards.
The fourth night was bad. This time he thought his headboards and walls were trying to crush him, leading to a lot of punching and some bruised and cut knuckles.
