[center][h2]Tuesday, March 1st, 5:55 AM[/h2][/center]

[i]BEEEEEEEEP[/i]

[color=Khaki]"Guhhhhh....[/color]

[i]BEEEEEEEEP[/i]

[color=Khaki]"Five.... five more minutes."[/color] Anthony Noll's hand popped up out from the pile of sheets on top of his bed, thrashing about until it slammed down on top of the alarm clock, and scrabbling, searching for the 'snooze' button, found it, and pushed it with an index finger extended. Sighing, Anthony relaxed, and was about to go back to sleep, under his warm, cozy covers, but was rudely jolted to full consciousness by a klaxon, right below his pillow. Cursing, and flinging his pillow into the wall, Anthony squinted into the phone's glare, and pressed the 'Off' button for his phone alarm. 

Rubbing his eyes blearily, he cast off the sheets to the side, and shivered, as he stepped onto the hardwood floor, which was [i]altogether[/i] too cold. It was March, dammit! It wasn't supposed to be cold and misty outside! Shuffling his way over to his closet, he pulled out his hoodie, some sweatpants, boxers, and a white t-shirt. Walking over to his small bathroom, he stripped down, and stepped into the shower, cursing as the water was absolutely [i]frigid[/i] at first, and then sighing as it got warmer, steam filling the room. 

[h2]6:30 AM[/h2]

Stepping out of the shower, water falling off of his body onto the bathroom mat, Anthony took his white towel off of the rack, and began to dry himself off. Looking in the foggy mirror, his eyes fell on the gothic quatrefoil tattoo on his right shoulder, as always, and something began to tickle the back of his mind... Whispering in his ears... 

Shaking his head, he hung the towel back up, and pulled his boxers on, and immediately afterward, his sweatpants. Looking at his hair, he sighed, and pulled the shirt and hoodie over his head, fitting snugly into the well-fit clothing. Grabbing a hair dryer, he waited until he couldn't feel any moisture, and then combed it straight down. It would get mussed up, anyway, but he could try. Exiting the bathroom, he went over, and sat on his bed, grabbing his phone, while pulling on some socks and running shoes. As always, there was both a text and a notification from Maddie, one for her followers on twitter, a "#SunnyDay! Have a wonderful morning! @M4D13Noll", and one for Anthony alone. "Hey big bro, hope you remember to have a wonderful day today! Do well in class, and don't forget your meds!" Quickly tapping out a reply of, "Haha yeah okay squirt. Have a good day!", Anthony went over to his dresser, smiling. Maddie could always make him smile, even if he wasn't feeling too well. Pulling out a seven-day pill container, he opened the second one, and took his meds dry. It wasn't the most comfortable thing, but it was quick. 

Taking his headphones off the top of the messy dresser, Alex plugged it into his phone, turned the music to his "Jogging Songs" playlist, and walked outside the apartment, stretching in the hallway before jogging down the flight of stairs, and out of the lobby, automatic doors parting with a [i]swoosh.[/i]

[h2]7:10[/h2] 

By this time, Anthony was about halfway done with his jogging route, and, as always, he made it a point to visit a rotund Italian man who stood on a street corner, near the heart of town where everything happened, selling various magazines, newspapers, and other print. Named Adriano, the chubby guy kept in business in the Digital Age with his winning personality, charming smile, and wide variety of magazines. It seemed that his stand was subscribed to every magazine published, it was that many. So, wallet ready, and almost-smile on his face, Anthony jogged over to Adriano's stand. And so the routine began. 

"Ah, hello, my friend, how might you be doing this morning? Magnificent, I hope?" The large Italian's mustache twitched with every word. Steam puffing from his mouth on the coldish, misty morning, Anthony jogged in place, and replied,

[color=Khaki]"Yeah, I'm doing okay.... So how are your girlfriends?"[/color] As he said this, he handed Adriano a five-dollar bill, and received a magazine in return, [i]Thespian Weekly[/i], a magazine, which, despite the title, was more of a general arts magazine than just an acting one, although the leading article was usually on a play, actor, or screenplay. He enjoyed it. 

The rotund Italian laughed, and said, "Ah, they're doing okay. They still have no idea that I'm married!" Laughing quietly, Anthony rolled up the magazine, and held it like a baton from a relay in his hand, and waved back at Adriano, as he began to jog off around the block, reaching the final half of his normal routine. 

[h2]7:55[/h2] 

As always, after jogging in squares, around a couple blocks around Main Street, Anthony headed to the Queen's Orchid, a few minutes after the proprietors would usually arrive. Seeing the lights on, he jogged up to the door, and finally stopped, breathing briskly. Opening the door, he stepped into the room, little bell ringing over his head.