Morning arrived without asking whether Jason was ready for it. The room was quiet, save for the faint rays of sunlight slipping through the gap in the curtains, painting pale lines across the floor and the clothes still resting on the bed.
Jason lay motionless beneath his blanket. The dried trails on his cheeks had long since disappeared, but the heaviness in his chest hadn’t.
Bzzz... Bzzz... Bzzz...
The alarm clock sprang to life, its shrill ringing cutting through the silence and echoing around the small apartment. Jason didn’t move, not because he had decided to ignore it, but because his body simply wasn’t awake enough to respond. The sound continued for a few more seconds before finally stopping. Silence returned. Only briefly.
Bzzz... Bzzz... Bzzz...
The second alarm began. This time, Jason stirred. A low groan escaped his lips as he rolled onto his side, refusing to open his eyes. His body felt unusually heavy, as though every muscle had absorbed the exhaustion of yesterday.
Still half-asleep, he stretched an arm toward the bedside table, his movements automatic. For years, the routine had been the same.
Reach, press the alarm, go back to sleep. His hand swept across the wooden surface. Nothing. His brows furrowed. He patted the table again. Still nothing. The ringing continued relentlessly.
Only then did Jason slowly peel his eyes open, his sleepy gaze landing on the empty bedside table.
"...Huh?"
He blinked several times before lifting his head. The alarm clock wasn’t there. Instead, it sat several steps away, resting atop the cabinet near the apartment door, continuing its relentless assault on his ears.
Jason stared at it blankly. A moment later, memory returned.
"Right." He let out a tired breath.
"I moved it."
A few weeks ago, after sleeping through two alarms and arriving embarrassingly late to work, he’d forced himself to change the habit. If the alarm stayed beside the bed, he would unconsciously switch it off and fall right back asleep. So he’d started placing it on the other side of the room. If he wanted silence, he had to earn it.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I Guess the old me knew I couldn’t trust the future me." He shook his head.
"Funny I prepared for oversleeping. But I never prepared for waking up feeling like this."
The words lingered in the quiet room before fading away. Another groan escaped him. He stretched both arms high above his head until his shoulders protested, then slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet met the cold floor. For a few seconds, he simply sat there, gathering enough willpower to stand. Finally, he pushed himself upright.
Each sluggish step toward the alarm felt far longer than the few meters it actually was, the ringing only growing more irritating. Reaching the cabinet, Jason picked up the alarm clock and pressed the button on top. The noise died instantly. The apartment fell silent once more. He stood there for another second, appreciating the quiet before turning around.
On his way back, he placed the clock neatly on the table beside his bed. His eyes drifted upward. The mirror caught them.
The reflection staring back looked a little better than the one from last night. Not happier. Not stronger. Just less broken. The redness around his eyes had faded slightly, though the exhaustion remained, the face of someone who hadn’t solved a single problem, someone who had simply survived another night.
Jason held his own gaze for a long moment. Yesterday still lingered in his mind the rejection, the humiliation, the tears. None of it had disappeared while he slept. It was all still there, waiting for him.
He drew in a slow breath, filling his lungs before letting it out just as steadily.
"Look at you." His voice was calm, almost detached.
"You cried yourself to sleep over a girl." He let out a dry laugh.
"Pathetic."
His eyes didn’t leave the reflection.
"But" He paused.
"I don’t think crying was the pathetic part. What would’ve been pathetic is if I stayed there forever."
His fingers tightened slightly at his sides.
"It hurts. It still hurts. And it probably will for a while." He smiled bitterly.
"I can’t just wake up and pretend none of it happened. I can’t tell my heart to move on just because it’s morning."
Another deep breath escaped him.
"But the world doesn’t stop because mine feels like it did. I still have work. I still have bills. I still have a life to live."
He looked into his own eyes, speaking with more conviction than before.
"So... one step. Just one. I don’t need to fix everything today. I just need to get through today."
He nodded faintly, as though making a promise to himself.
"It’s a new day."
There was no confidence in his voice, no dramatic declaration just quiet acceptance. Another day had begun. Whether he was ready for it or not, life had already moved forward. The only thing left for him to do was move with it.
Jason remained standing before the mirror for a while longer, quietly studying the stranger reflected in it. The redness around his eyes hadn’t completely faded. His eyelids were still slightly swollen from the tears he had shed the night before, giving him the appearance of someone who hadn’t slept nearly enough.
He sighed. There wasn’t much he could do about it.
His gaze drifted toward the digital clock sitting on the table beside his bed.
6:45 A.M.
His classes didn’t begin until ten, leaving him with a little over three hours before he needed to be on campus.
Ordinarily, he would’ve climbed right back into bed maybe watched a few videos, scrolled mindlessly through social media, and convinced himself that "just five more minutes" wouldn’t hurt.
He knew exactly how that would end. Five minutes would become thirty, thirty would become an hour, and before he knew it, he’d be rushing out of the apartment feeling guilty before the day had even started.
Today, however, something felt different. Not better. Just different. Yesterday had already been rock bottom. Spending another morning hiding under a blanket wasn’t going to erase what had happened. Amanda wasn’t suddenly going to text him with an apology, and replaying the rejection in his head for the hundredth time wouldn’t magically change the ending.
"If I’m going to feel miserable," he muttered with a tired smile, rubbing the back of his neck
"I might as well feel miserable while doing something productive."
The thought almost made him laugh.
His eyes wandered toward the wardrobe, eventually stopping on a pair of white running shoes leaning neatly against its side, looking almost untouched, their bright color standing out against everything else in the room. Jason couldn’t help but chuckle.
"Oh... I remember you."
Those shoes were the result of one of his famous "I’m going to change my life" moments. He could still remember staying up late watching self-improvement videos, listening to people preach about discipline, consistency, and waking up at five in the morning. Somewhere around the seventh motivational video, he’d become completely convinced that all he needed was the right equipment. So he’d ordered the shoes.
"They really sold me an entirely new personality." His smile widened slightly.
"I remember thinking, ’Once these arrive, my life is going to change.’
He shook his head. "The shoes arrived two days later. My motivation disappeared after one."
His gaze shifted slightly to the dark grey tracksuit hanging beside the shoes another purchase from that exact same night. Jason stared at it for a few seconds before letting out another helpless laugh.
"I really bought the deluxe package, didn’t I?"
Shoes, tracksuit, running app he’d prepared everything except the one thing he actually needed: the determination to keep going after the excitement wore off.
For a moment, he simply looked at them. Then he shrugged. "Well they’re not going to use themselves."
He walked into the bathroom and turned on the tap. The icy water splashed against his face, instantly chasing away the lingering drowsiness. He cupped another handful and washed again before lifting his head toward the mirror. His eyes were still swollen, the puffiness stubbornly refusing to fade. Anyone looking at him would immediately know he’d cried.
Jason held his own gaze for a second before bringing both hands up and lightly clapping his cheeks. "Enough." His voice was calm.
"You already gave yesterday enough of your time."
Returning to the bedroom, he pulled the tracksuit from the wardrobe and changed into it, the fabric still carrying that crisp feeling of clothing barely worn. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slipped on the running shoes and carefully tightened the laces until they hugged his feet comfortably. Once finished, he stood and stamped each foot lightly against the floor.
Thump. Thump.
The shoes stayed firm. "Perfect."
He stretched both arms high above his head until his shoulders loosened with a satisfying pull, then rolled his neck from side to side. His body still felt sluggish, but it wasn’t as bad as when he’d first climbed out of bed. That would do.
Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Jason unlocked it and lazily swiped through the apps until he found a running tracker he had downloaded months ago. The app opened almost instantly.
Welcome back.
Jason snorted. "Don’t act like you’ve been waiting for me."
He selected the beginner route and set the target distance to one kilometer nothing ambitious, nothing unrealistic, just enough to get moving. His finger hovered over the screen for a brief moment before pressing Start. The timer immediately began counting.
Jason slipped the phone back into his pocket, walked toward the apartment door, and stepped outside. A cool breeze brushed against his face, carrying with it the fresh scent of the early morning. The city was only beginning to wake, and for the first time since yesterday, Jason felt as though he was moving with it instead of watching it leave him behind.
He drew one final breath. Then he started jogging.
[A/N]
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