By the time Layland's alarm buzzed to tell him that it was midnight, he had done no more than make a mess out of his apartment. Paper's littered the floor which hadn't been clean to start with. In many places, the piles of paper and junk sat inches deep. His take-out containers (as upscale as they were), joined last weeks on a cluttered table. He had a white board on wheels that now sported a fresh coating of furiously scribbled data. Elements and equations tossed about with a logic that only Layland could decipher. The only sign of life in the entire two roomed apartment on the tenth floor of a high rise building were the pictures of poppy girl taped up on the walls.

He set a new alarm and headed to bed. He would get to the lab early just like he always did. This time though, he would be composed. He would work with his brain, not his heart--and he would get real work done. He would stop his grades from slipping and fix his relationship with professor Carter after their last confrontation. Tomorrow, today would be just a dream.