He lazily stood up from his couch to turn off the TV. His back is aching, sharp needle pain pulsing through his calves due to prolonged period of sitting down. Turning off the static TV was harder than he thought, since he has grown accustomed to its sound, it's like as if he can hear the TV's complaining for overworking it. The moment he reaches for the on/off button, he was so sure he could hear the TV praising him for doing the right thing. Perhaps he just needed sleep; after all, the past week has taken a toll on him. Nights after nights of repetitive dreams about certain events, It's although his subconscious mind is giving him a prediction. Too bad, it didn't come true.
Heaving himself over the massive pile of laundry in the hallway, he reaches for his mobile on top the bed. It was a new piece of junk that he picked up from a dodgy chinese merchant from china town. Sometimes it connects sometimes it doesn't, partly due to the throwing around it receives. Another odd thing though, it also speaks or correctly put, it communicates with him. It might be a thing to get eavesdrop on your conversation once a while, it sure is a totally different thing to hear this piece of junk talking back, giving you advice on stuff you're discussing with other people on the phone. It's as if the phone has a brain of its own. It MUST be from some dodgy feng shui shit. Oh well, it's cheap, it's chinese and it works, what else can a man ask for. And for some reasons of his own, he named it Lee. As to why that is the case, is still a mystery to the rest of his household's objects.

"Goodmornnniinnng" screamed the mobile as soon he switches on, "How are you feeling today?"
Ignoring his loud companion, he slowly put on his usual outfit. A clean black suit, black shirt and finished off with a white silk tie.
"Beeeeeppppp!" Lee rings as it vibrates happily on the bed.
Grabbing Lee with his left hand, buttoning up his jacket with his right, he made his way towards the door while reading the sms.
"Finally..." he murmured.
While placing his Glock securely in the leather holster, he quitely opened and closed his apartment door.
"Fuck...I always forget my ray ban on Tuesday morning!" he cursed while walking into the bright sunlight.
To be continued...

Haha just feel like writing some short story bout some cool guy, most likely about a wealthy, well educated, yet rebelious son from a well known mafia (or Vietcong if that satisfy your fantasies Jo) family. Haven't thought of a name for him yet, so helps appreaciated! =)
PS: Tin is still fcuked for exams...