Charlie was hunched over his keyboard, hand sketching on his Wacom pad, his eyes a bit bleary. It wasn't all that late, but he'd been working on this design all day. He'd gotten up early, despite the protests from his body, to hammer away at the project before classes. He'd sketched between classes. And now, he was putting off some homework to continue working on the design. It was for a very important client, and Charlie was determined to wow the dude. Whenever his hand got tired, he stopped for a bit to look over the accounting shit Lewis had emailed him. There was some sort of error that Lewis couldn't find, and he was hoping a fresh set of eyes would locate the problem. Trouble was, Charlie's eyes were far from fresh right now. Fuck... he needed sleep... but he had more work to do first.
Going to school while still trying to maintain the same level of productivity with the shop was starting to wear on Charlie. His trip home had been extremely refreshing, helping him clear his head, get some quality sleep, and enjoy the warmth that came from being surrounded by loved ones. Returning to school had been like a slap to the face. There were really only three people keeping him here, and he felt he might be able to convince one of them to go back to L.A. with him. But was he really ready to go back? He had a lot of work to do on control, he knew that all too well. But Charlie wasn't sure this was the place to learn it. He'd said as much to Sydni while talking to her briefly on AIM.
And just as he was thinking about her, he heard a knock followed by the creek of the hinges on his door. "Back at ya," he said before yawning and pushing his chair away from the desk. "Come on in, and lock the door behind you." The guards hadn't been following him around lately as they had in the past, and he'd been well behaved for a good month now. Still, Charlie didn't one one of them busting into his room if they did happen to see Sydni sneaking in.
He got up from his chair, stretching his hands over his head as he came up onto his tip toes. The action caused his tattered old tshirt to rise up well above the waistband of his low slung mesh pants. "I need to work on this just a bit longer, but make yourself at home. Turn on the TV, some music, whatever suits ya." Stretch complete, he let out a little groan upon sitting back down in front of his computer, feeling very much like a slave to the damn thing.