Next day, Rex woke up around 6 a.m., just like usual, his body feeling fresh, free from the exhaustion of last night's intense studies and research.
Still a bit groggy, his fingers lazily fumbled for his phone resting on the bedside table. As he tilted the screen toward himself to check the time, his half-lidded eyes accidentally caught a glimpse of the date displayed.
His brain stalled.
A second later, his drowsiness evaporated like mist under the sun.
He shot up from the bed like a spring-loaded toy, blinking furiously, wiping at his eyes like he could somehow erase what he saw. His heart skipped a beat. He leaned in again, staring intently at the tiny screen.
His mouth fell open in disbelief.
Today was Saturday.
For a long moment, he simply sat there, stunned. Then, a wave of embarrassment hit him.
The stock exchanges were closed today.
He stared at his reflection in the black phone screen.
"Seriously?" he muttered.
