Try as he may, Victor just could not seem to get a decent amount of sleep for the life of him. For the first few minutes of silence that fell upon the room he just simply lay there trying to relax after hearing the stern voice of his father yammering on about how he needs to keep a good impression since Jared was an important person and how he needs to be on his best behavior. Everyone seemed to be an â€˜important personâ€™ to his father and it placed a lot of stress on him; hell it wouldnâ€™t be the least bit surprising if he started to get grey hairs by the time he was thirty. Business was a stressful job in general. Being a bodyguard, well, that was stressful as well. Whenever someone bragged about being a bodyguard, taking a bullet for someone, diving out of a speeding car, or some other movie bullshit it made him want to laugh. Being a bodyguard was not all that fun.<br/><br/>Yes, you get to shoot a gun, and yes you kill people, but it was not all what the movies made it seem to be. There was a lot more to it that he wished did not exist. He had gotten use to it, almost numb, but that phone call from his father had just changed this little trip. A lot. Seems his fatherâ€™s enemies will be in the area they are going and he was told to avoid them at all costs. Now it seems he had two sets of enemies to deal with. Victor could already feel the stress levels rising again even as he slept, and his dreams were negative and filled with different sequences of being killed. In fact in his one dream the death felt so real that he shot awake, almost jumping up, and felt himself to make sure everything on his body was where it should be. Discovering he was just fine he relaxed for a moment and looked over to Mathias, who seemed to be having better luck.<br/><br/>Or so he hoped. The young man had his arms around him again. Instead of finding it comforting, he found it a bit suffocating, and he slowly pulled away so he wouldnâ€™t disturb his slumber. Then he quietly went into the bathroom.<br/><br/>Standing over the sink like he had when he burned that notebook, he turned the faucet on and splashed some water on his face. Victor looked at himself in the mirror and took a few deep breaths, noticing that he looked like he was still somewhat tense. Hearing word of his own fatherâ€™s enemies really changed things, making him extremely nervous, more than he had been. It meant from this point forward he would have to be at the top of his game. Never even once would he let his guard down and let his fatherâ€™s enemies get the best of him. Deep down, Victor still had that much respect for his father, and he knew his enemies were not people he should take lightly. A small part of him wished this had been a trip where he was actually with his father; he knew how to deal with them better than he did since he had the experience.<br/><br/>He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Hopefully nothing too big happened where he couldnâ€™t control it but something told him blood was going to be spilled. Knowing his luck that was exactly what was about to happen and he didnâ€™t like it. Once he decided he was calmed down enough to return to the room, he asked for a glass of water, drank down some of it, and then returned to the bedroom. Hopefully this trip was not going to be as difficult. But then again that was wishful thinking. Wishful thinking was never a good sign, right?