Nine Nine Eight Four

It's 2 am, and your phone falls behind the bed. You have work in the morning, and it's already difficult enough to wake up when the phone's blaring right beside your head so it'll be nigh impossible for you to either hear or care when the alarm sounds in five hours.

You're already quite comfortable with your pillow just right and your legs are in that hard-to-find arrangement that leads to perfect sleep so you try moving as little as possible and stick your hand down the back. Unfortunately your bed is too close to the wall, and the only thing your accomplish is the slight risk of being stuck there forever. So you begrudgingly get out of bed, knowing that never in your life will you ever be as relaxed as you were then, and go hunting for the curved, black rectangle.

Your hand blindingly stumbles upon said rectangle and you pull your arm out. Out of habit, you check your notifications and...

This isn't your phone. That's not your background picture, and you have no idea who 634-167-9982 is. Or why seven minutes ago they had texted "Be there in a few".

You feel an arm around your neck.