Alone on the large bed in the middle of the spacious room, Juho turned for the nth time, unable to fall asleep.
The screen of his phone kept lighting up. Messages from all sorts of women — famous models, silver-screen actresses, even fellow flight attendants from the airline he worked at — kept flooding into his inbox.
Weary, he grabbed the phone, flipped it face-down, and tried to force himself to sleep.
He'd only slept with them once. Maybe two or three times, at most, if they were interesting. He certainly never asked any of them to be his girlfriend or his wife. So why did they keep texting him nonstop?
Fifteen minutes later, he let out a frustrated groan, slid his phone into the pocket of his robe, and headed outside.
The living room was drown in complete darkness. From the tiny gap beneath the door next to his room, no light shone through.
He placed a hand on the handle and turned it. It didn't budge, already locked shut.
