The alarm clock next to Kaz's bed blared loudly, startling him out of his dreams violently. He barely had enough time to think before he was sliding off the velvety blankets to crash awkwardly to the beige carpet floor. He groaned, wincing as he dragged himself up to sit against the bed frame. "Ow..." he muttered, rubbing at the back of his head as he squinted at the warmly lit room around him. He could vaguely make out the shape of his dark oak dresser, and it took him a few tries before he could stand. He stumbled over to the dresser, wincing as he squinted against the light. He fumbled blindly for a moment, patting its grainy wooden surface until his hand closed around his glasses.
It took him a few tries in his half-asleep state, but he eventually managed to slip the thin, gold-colored metal onto his face. He blinked rapidly for a few moments, taking in the large room as he squinted through the light streaming in through too-big windows. It was large, larger than the room he had lived in when he was still in Germany. The walls were painted a cream-colored white, the décor arranged to have an underlying theme of red against the dull whites and comforting browns. He turned to look at the alarm clock next to the bed and near felt his heart stop as he read the time displayed on its chipped screen.
"Shit!" he yelled quietly, scrambling to get dressed. He was almost half an hour late to stage rehearsal, and Alex was going to kill him when he finally showed up. He fumbled with the dresser for a moment, yanking drawer after drawer open as he searched frantically for the outfit he was supposed to wear to the performance that morning. He threw on the white button down and cheap black suit vest, leaving the top few buttons of the shirt open before slinging an undone, dull red tie bowtie around his neck. He slipped into his ripped black jeans quickly before throwing on the overpriced Oxfords Alex had bought them all.
Nearly tripping over himself, he finally managed to get his last shoe on before grabbing his phone and stuffing it into his pocket. He snatched his guitar case from its place next to his bed, slinging the strap hurriedly around his body before making his way down the stairs. He padded down the smooth wood of the staircase down to the first floor, the floorboards creaking ever so slightly as he made his way quickly down the stairs. He had almost made it past the kitchen when he was stopped by his uncle. "Where are you going, Kaz?" he asked tiredly, coffee in hand as he leaned against the pristine white countertop.
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