AN: I don't own anything Harry Potter, But I do own the character Carden Black
Mondays.
Most people hate them. The sound of your alarm clock going off at 6:00 AM waking you for yet another monotonous day in your dreary life. A drive to a job you hated, to a boss you hated, in an office you couldn't stand.
But not Carden Black.
Carden lay in bed and slowly woke up, stretching his arms above his head without opening his eyes. With a smile on his face he cracked an eye open to look at the two girls lying beside him. Both had dark hair, and were snuggled up against him wearing nothing but satisfied smiles. He chuckled to himself and shook his head.
As quietly as he could, trying not to wake the girls in his bed, he slipped out and stood up yawning. Walking over towards his bathroom he glanced at his clock.
11:55 AM
Smiling to himself yet again he closed his bathroom door and hopped into his shower, whistling to himself while he washed the previous nights sweat and sex from his body. After shaving he jumped out and threw on a pair of black boxers and a pair of jeans. He walked back into his room and check himself out in the mirror with a smirk on his face.
Standing at 6'2", with tan skin and a much defined body, Carden knew he was gorgeous. God knows that girls tell him that often enough. He had eye length black hair that swept diagonally across his face into a point that he had died blood red. His perfect white teeth and tan skin contrasted with his dark eyes that were so blue grey that they were almost silver. The only blemishes on his entire body were two identical perfect circle scars on his neck, and what looked like three claw marks on each forearm. He had no idea where they came from, and didn't really care. He though they made him look tough. He winked at himself in the mirror and flexed his Pecs a few times before throwing on a black t-shirt that clearly had trouble containing his body.
"Hmm" he thought to himself smirking, "My shirts are starting to get a little loose, better buy some more soon." He threw on some black socks and his Doc Martins and walked back over to his bed. He looked down at the two girls, neither whose name he could remember, and said.
"Hey girls, I've got to go. You gotta get outta here." The two girls groaned but woke up. They slowly pulled their tiny dresses back over their shapely bodies, not bothering to hide anything from Carden, who just smiled to himself once again. He led them to the door, getting kisses from both, before they slipped him a piece of paper with their numbers on it.
"Call us sometime." They both said as they left. He just shook his head and walked over to his dresser, opened the top drawer, and dropped the piece of paper in next to countless others.
"As if." He thought to himself. Girls like them were fun while he was on the road, but never warranted a callback. He grabbed his keys off the dresser and left his room, walked downstairs and gave the hotel key back to the desk, and walked out to his tour bus. He was the lead singer for a band called A Gentleman's Wasteland and played the piano and the acoustic guitar on some songs too. He nodded to his bus driver and sat down in one of the recliners placed around a 72" plasma screen, and turned on the TV. Seeing himself singing the chorus of one of his songs along with the caption "America's biggest heartthrob made him smirk for the tenth time that morning.
"Man," He said to himself, "I fucking love Mondays."
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