21 | house call

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After a long day at work, the last thing I need is to come home to a living room that looks like it's been rampaged

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After a long day at work, the last thing I need is to come home to a living room that looks like it's been rampaged.

Luckily for me, I'm greeted with a spotless apartment and a fresh spritz of air freshener. There's a note on the kitchen counter—my roommate will be out late for dinner with some friends but promises to bring me back dessert.

While my roommate Kylie and I aren't best friends, when bedroom doors close longer than usual, we recognize the other isn't having a great time. Hence her offer of dessert.

I hang my keys up before discarding the rest of my belongings. I have only enough energy to make myself something to eat before I collapse onto my bed for the night. My roommate's speaker dings to life as the Bluetooth connects and Bad Suns pumps out into the air.

There's an art to being alone, and though I don't fool myself into thinking I've mastered it, I like to think I have seniority status from the amount of time I've spent practicing it. After putting together a culinary classic of instant ramen since it's about as much energy as I have right now, I slurp down my soup.

I'm ready to call it a night when I get a text.

[ PABLO ]

you up?

[ ALEX ]

unfortunately. what's up?

I put a kettle on the stove to make a cup of tea. Heeding my brother's warning, I render a mental note to call someone in the morning to look at the sink. Even now, the dripping sound is getting on my nerves.

My phone lights up with an incoming call.

"I'm so tired but I remembered I have dessert coming so I think I should stay up."

Pablo's warm laugh echoes back at me. "What else are we supposed to stay up for?"

"Crippling anxiety, depression, and insomnia?"

"Damn, you didn't have to call me out so hard."

Using my free hand, I flick the television on in the background, lowering the volume until it's a gentle hum.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing," he says with the shower on in the background. "Been a little MIA."

"The fact that you're the busy one and yet you're checking in on me, the person who's decidedly not busy," I sigh, more to myself than anyone else. "Debating whether or not I want to cut my losses and run away to Seattle."

"Why run away here when your best friend is back in town?" Pablo says, enthralled, and I know exactly what's coming next because certain things cannot get past his thoughtful eye. "Don't think I didn't notice her in your Instagram story the other week."

Putting him on speaker, I open the app and flick through the archives to find the story in question. All that's visible is the back of her head with the focus on the posters we managed to complete.

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