The sound of an alarm as loud as a ambulance driving right by you was what woke the raven haired man. Groggily, he picked his head up from his pillow and turned to the nightstand, reaching his hand out for his phone.

"Alright, settle down." He mumbled, grasping the light mobile device and bringing it to his face. Lucky for him, he turned the brightness down, meaning he could turn it on without making himself even more blind than he already was. He began to put his code in, turning off the alarm while doing so. Groaning in a so slightly annoyed, tired manner, he put his head back on the pillow and closed his blue eyes again.

The raven haired man stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime for him, but was actually ten minutes before realization hit him. Today was a Monday. Monday meant weekday. Weekday meant work.

Abruptly, the raven haired man sprung up from his laying position, deciding that what he did was terrible a second too late. As the blankets fell off the bed, so did he. He hit his floor head first, making a small "oof!" Sound as he did. Sighing heavily, he began to work himself out of the tangled blankets.

Once he was free, he began to sit up, examining his floors. Slowly, he stood, bundling up his blue and green checkered blankets, tossing them on his bed. As he walked out of his room, he made a mental note to make-up his bed before he had to go to bed again.

He began to walk over to his bathroom, which wasn't that far from his bedroom. He opened to door to his bathroom, walking in and flicking on the light. Once he did, he was welcomed with a mirror. Smiling lightly at his reflection, he reached out for a hair brush and began to gain control of his hair. He ran it through the brush a couple times and even had to plug in his straightener and run that through once or twice.

Once he thought his hair was perfect, he began to walk back to his room, thanking himself for getting a shower the night before. Quickly, he made his way into his room and kneeled in front of his drawers. Pulling one open, he began to dig for his outfit for today, making a small sound of joy once he did.

He pulled out a light grey jumper with foxes all over it. Quickly, he stripped down to his boxers and threw on his jumper, finding a pair of a pale, pastel yellow colored pants to go with it. He quickly made his bed up and looked on his nightstand, grabbing his phone and his contacts case.

Making his way to the bathroom again, he hummed a song to himself as he flicked the light back on and walked back up to the mirror. He began to put his contact in, messing up a couple times before getting them in perfectly. A quick fringe check then happened and then he was ready.

Making sure everything was good, he made his way to his door to leave. Once he opened it, the smell of lilies, roses, and an assortment of other flowers hit him and he was happy.

He made his way down the stairs, the smell of fresh flowers getting more clear and suddenly, he was in a shop full of flowers.

Walking all the way down, he smiled as he saw the lavender colored counter. He walked past it, picking up the clipboard laying right by the cash register, examining some nearby roses. A feminine voice made him jump.

"Good morning! I thought you would never wake up."

He turned around, his blue eyes meeting a pair of brown ones. He sighed, smiling as he realized who it was. "Sorry, Heather. I forgot today was a Monday."

"That's quite alright, Phil. I see you went for the foxes, today. That's cute."

"And that dress color goes nice with you. You look lovely!" He turned around, not catching her blush as he walked up to the cash register. He began to count the money inside, taking inventory casually.

Phil Lester can only be described as a kindhearted man who's way too in love with flowers and animals. He wanted to be a vet, but it was too much for him, so he became the next best thing for him: a pastel wearing florist who volunteers at local animal shelters. He had black hair that was really soft, apparently. He also had soft, sky blue eyes that was always full with a warm feeling. He made any bad situation really happy. Everyone that knew Phil was always happy around him.

His assistant, Heather Millen, was one to vouch for that fact. She was a warm person who felt really happy around Phil. Yes, she may have liked him more than usual, but that doesn't mean she was happy with him before she realized that. Heather was a pale girl with long dark brown hair and matching eyes. She stood at 5'6 and wore lots of small dresses. Half because of Phil, half because they were cute.

Together they formed the shop named Posh Petals, a florist shop that sells the freshest flowers in London. They were busy a lot during the spring and summer time.

"So, it's going to be drizzling today, apparently." Heather said as she wrote down something on her clipboard, breaking the silence. Phil gave a small chuckle, and shook his head.

"I wouldn't trust the weather reports."

Chuckling lightly, Heather stayed quiet for a bit before speaking up once again. "Did you hear the news?"

This made Phil perk up. What was going on? Nothing really happened here.

Heather took his curious look as an invitation to speak. "There's competition coming tomorrow."

"Where'd you hear that from?"

"A couple stores down. They say the guy who's the boss is really dark and punk looking. He has gages everywhere and his hair has blue tips. He's rude and scary. I also heard that he does drugs."

Phil widened his eyes. Was someone like that really gonna put his shop next to him?

Heather nodded as if to say, "Yeah, that's what I heard." She spoke up to say, "He runs a tattoo shop."

Phil swallowed. Not only is my competition already having rumors, but he's a tattooist too.

•••

The time was now 7:55. They were done for the day. Phil waved bye to the last customer, smiling lightly as he began to take inventory again.

Heather was humming a song lightly as she watered the last of the lilies. Her eyes casted over at Phil, staring at him for awhile. She began to fix her hair and pull her dress down. She looked busy as she began to speak. "So, Phil..." She began, looking over at him. "My friends and I were going to a nightclub later on tonight. Would you like to come?"

Phil tensed. It's not like he was scared of night clubs. He didn't like Heather or anything. She was really sweet. It's just that Phil and nightclubs don't mix. He began to look for an excuse, coming up with just, "I don't think so, Heather. I just need to rest tonight." Cue mental facepalm.

"Oh..." Was Heather's reply was.

Phil widened his eyes. He hated it when he disappoints people. "Heather, really, I'm-"

"No, it's fine, Phil, really."

"We'll do something together later, okay? Is just-"

"I said it was fine, so it's fine." Heather spoke over Phil. She turned around quickly, walking over to the exit. She reached up to grab her purse hanging from the coat hanger and opened the door. She didn't say anything as she walked out.

Phil watched as she began to walk farther away from the building, trying to ignore his pesky thoughts. He wasn't rude, was he? Shaking his head, Phil began to walk to staircase to go up to his small home. He flicked off the lights with the switch once he made it. He made his way up the stairs, walking into his small house once he made it.

It took him two hours to get ready to sleep. He took a shower and cleaned up. Once he hopped into his bed, he began to scroll on his phone, wasting time he could've been using to sleep.

Once Phil was completely tired, he checked the time. 11:45. Phil sighed. He wanted to sleep, but he was just so worried about his new competition. If a tattoo shop was going to open up next to him, will the audience around here change? Will there be more smoking teens than there will ladies wearing cute outfits around here? He tried to push the thoughts to the back of his head and just close his eyes.

He didn't fall asleep until 1:00 in the morning.