Habits are never easy to break and very easy to fall into. It can take only eighteen days for a habit to form and from that habit, a routine often follows. A daily pattern that everyone finds themselves caught in at some point in their life. Whether it be a specific morning meal, workout, or even the same pattern of activities from day to day. These routines can be dangerous for some. It is so easy to become entranced in the easy life that is formed rather than break away to work towards something more. This is where Arthur found himself over the last few months.

Every morning he would be woken up by Alyssa’s banging and loud, excited attitude. After no small amount of complaining, he would then follow her from class to class. It was all theory he learned years ago. After a few weeks in, many of the teachers gave up on forcing him to participate which only made the pressure to change and grow lesser than before. It was the first time Arthur had nothing to do, nothing to focus on. His progress on researching the god artifacts came to a screeching halt as did his motivation for just about anything else. The strange thing was, Arthur was happy or so he thought. It wasn’t a familiar feeling for him. He noticed that just enjoying his life rather than striving for the impossible was a pleasant change. Alyssa had become good friends with a few of her other classmates and would often go out with them leaving Arthur to spend time with the fully recovered Emily or just wander the campus and city aimlessly.

It didn’t happen suddenly, but Arthur found himself going out to bars and clubs more and more as the weeks went by. Occasionally it would be with Emily, but oftentimes he would go alone. He had become fascinated by expensive whiskeys and bourbons while having the money to back up the hobby. This was yet another night Arthur found himself at McKinneys, a well-regarded Irish pub within the city. The pub was in stumbling distance of his apartment and by this point, everyone there knew him. Old posters for a variety of alcohols plastered the walls, although they were barely visible due to the dim lighting. Arthur sat hunched on a bar stool on the edge of a long, dark wooden bar. His figure obscured by the dark lighting and shadows of other patrons. He was sipping on an amber liquid, chilled by a slightly melted ball of ice.

A woman, perhaps in her mid to late twenties, sat down next to him. She was in a professional, black top and skirt. She didn’t say anything, just ordered a rum and coke and sipped on it next to him. Arthur usually would strike up a conversation. He was generally a very friendly drinker, but he just didn’t have it in him tonight. He was too lost in thought.

“Have you ever had a day you wish you could do over?” The woman next to him spoke after a few minutes. She didn’t turn to face him, but the question was clearly directed his way. “I think everyone does. We all have our bad days.” It wasn’t much of an answer, but he wasn’t in the mood to say much more. He turned his focus back towards the whiskey in front of him that was becoming more and more watered down. The woman took his response as permission to continue speaking and continued with her thought.

“I’ve always wondered whether any magicians have the ability to travel through time. I bet it’s appeared at least once somewhere. Why wouldn’t they use it for the good of everyone around them? Why not make it known to the world?” Her words hung in the air. It was a heavy topic for a bar conversation. Arthur took the bait. “Who’s to say they didn’t? Maybe this is the best outcome they could reach. Even with the power to control time, no one can account for every variable out there. Personally, I wouldn’t wish for that sort of power to even exist. No one person should be able to change the world at their whim. Why should they be able to dictate what the best course of action is? That would be a pretty fucked up world to live in.”

The woman now turned to face him. She was conventionally attractive with her shoulder-length blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and tanned, flawless skin. “You must not be very religious then.” It was more of a statement than a question. Arthur shrugged, “I’m not saying gods exist or don’t exist, but I’ll never be the one worshipping them if they do.” It was enough of an answer for her. She glanced at him for a second before holding out her hand, “I’m Mary.” Arthur shook her hand and responded simply, “Arthur”.

Arthur woke up the next morning to the familiar pounding at his door. He grumbled and tried getting up, but a sharp pain shot through his head. He groaned, but slowly stood up as his sheets fell off him revealing the fact that he had nothing on. He was surprised and looked back towards the bed. Mary’s blond hair was sticking out from under the covers of the bed. “Shit.” He mumbled to himself as he attempted to throw on throw on a pair of shorts, but his right leg just didn’t want to cooperate with him.

The banging came again. “Arthur! We’re going to be late!” He finally pulled the shorts up and lightly cracked open his door. “I’m running a little late today. You go ahead, I’ll meet up with you in the classroom.” Alyssa wasn’t having and kept trying to push her way into his room. Arthur kept his weight against the door and it wasn’t budging. “What are you hiding from me??” She gave up trying to open the door, and instead glared at him through the crack in the door. “A girl I met last night is still here.” Alyssa slyly grinned at Arthur. It annoyed Arthur immensely, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing it. “I’ll warn her about you later on if she sticks around.” Still giving him that frustrating look, Alyssa made her way to class. “Try not to be too late!” Alyssa yelled at him from the end of the hall. He had already closed the door but still heard Alyssa through it. Somehow, Mary hadn’t woken up after all that or was still pretending to be asleep. Arthur was never good at the morning after conversations and he quickly wrote her a note, left his spare key, and got dressed. He was careful to open and close the door silently as he made his way out. It was then Mary got up from the bed. Her movements in gathering her clothes and belongings all seemed unrushed. After reading Arthur’s note she flipped it over and wrote a short note of her own. It was then that she too left his room closing the door with a soft click.