Gibbous Moon
Stefan had slept for about an hour after his last singing gig. His throat was raw, and the pain woke him. He stretched, grumbled a curse under his breath and grabbed water off the bedside table in his motel. It didn't soothe him, so he rolled out of bed and figured he'd go looking for an all-night store. He could probably get some lozenges or something. He pulled a rumpled t-shirt on and headed out of the small motel room.
He looked up at the moon, peeking out from the clouds overhead and rubbed his temple. He'd got some spare cash. Maybe he'd take the night off tomorrow and sleep in. Seemed like the best idea, really. Probably coming down with something. Just his damned luck.