Brodie never woke up too late in the day, despite what his 'rock star status' might suggest. The truth was, even when he went to bed late he didn't sleep long past 7am, for better or worse. Unless he had a little 'help', of course. He had gotten up and showered, putting on a t-shirt, long short and flip-flops - the most summer like outfit he'd ever worn - and headed out to the deck to do his usual stretching. Not that Brodie was particularly fond of discipline, but when you did what he did and loved doing it well, you had to take special care of your joints, muscles, bones...The works.
His hair was a spiky mess he was half aware of, but Brodie didn't really care. Without a habit for wearing sunglasses he was staring out into the ocean with eyes almost closed as he stretched his arms over his head, and then dropped them heavily on either side of his torso, sighing. "Fuck it." He finally resigned, sinking on one of the couches and pulling a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from one of his shorts' side pockets.