He excused himself to the toilet. The door shut and he felt the creeping claustrophobia begin to claw its way forward. He didn’t know why he hated small spaces. He just did, vehemently. He grabbed the counter and shut his eyes, pushing the gnawing fears down, he could open the door and leave any time he wanted, the lock was on his side. His breathing slowed, and the feeling receded. He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. He was in a black t-shirt, jeans, and trainers. It wasn’t his best look, but it would have to do. 