He awakes. He awakes in bed. He awakes in bed, confused. But he shouldn’t be. A deal, is a deal. The bed is on the ceiling, and now, he is finally wide awake; staring at the floor through the locks of his long hair. They hang heavy, damp with something viscous dripping downward. Downward with the pull of gravity. He tosses his head around from where he dangles to rearrange the mop of sodden curls away from his eyes.