Set Backs. || PURPLEPHONE

Prologue - When The Milk Goes Bad.

((I'm not sure what to do with fanart that I get for previous chapters. Should I upload it on this book, or just remind you all to go look at that chapter? In any case, go look at 'The Hot and Steamy etc.' chapter again, because I have some even more amazing fanart and it is really good.

This also counts as a kind of prologue or introduction.))

Do you want to know what happens when you leave burning milk on a hot stove in the middle of a house full of drunk people?

Mike sighed, loading the last suitcase into the back of his car and looking back at the charred ruins of his kitchen.

That's what happens.

While Mike's house was getting renovated and the kitchen replaced, he had to go live with - out of all people - Vincent. The reason being that Jeremy and Fritz lived in apartments, Scott's rented house only had one bedroom and Vincent was the one who left the milk on the stove in the first place, so...

Vincent seemed extremely put off by the arrangement. When Mike arrived, his car loaded with his stuff, Vincent pulled the bags out carelessly and threw them on the ground. His house was a double-story, and had around 3 bedrooms on the top story, so Mike didn't really see why he was so peeved.

"Look," Vincent explained, pulling Mike's stuff into the lounge room, "You don't touch my stuff, you don't go anywhere near my room, you don't eat my food, you don't bring guests back here, you don't play loud music, you don't fill up my fridge with your booze, you don't have a house party while I'm away, you don't pet my dog, you don't trash the place and you definitely don't be here if I bring Scott home. Are we clear?"

Mike raised his hands in defence, "Sir, yes sir. I get it. I act like I don't exist."  

"Exactly," Vincent said, "Now get your stuff into one of the rooms on the top story. I don't care which."

Mike shouldered his bags and walked upstairs. There was one room with the door shut - Mike assumed it was Vincent's - and there were two other rooms. Very plain. Not purple, which, in Mike's opinion, was a huge disappointment. They were around the same size, same distance to the bathroom... One of them had a window that went out to the city. The other had a window that overlooked the nearby park.

Mike chose the city view.

Unloading his bags onto the bed, he spun around, slowly taking in the entire room. There was a bed and a cupboard, but apart from that, the room was empty. The walls were a boring cream and the floor was polished wood. The curtains were half drawn shut over the window, meaning that the entire suite looked empty and dark. He wondered if he was allowed to put up posters and things - make the tomb- I'm sorry, room - a little more homely.

He did have some, err, posters of women that would look pretty nice pinned up beside his bed.

He was lucky that most of his furniture was able to stay in the house while it got renovated. The fire had only spread to the kitchen before Scott grabbed one of the coolers that had been housing the beer and threw the icy water all over the flames while others called the firefighters. The fire wouldn't have even been so bad if one of Mike's friends, Steve, hadn't tried to put out the igniting saucepan with alcohol.

Mike walked back downstairs, "So, Vincent, am I allowed to decorate my room? And can I bring some stuff from my house? Like, my own TV or something?"

"Decorate your room?" Vincent asked, "What are you, a teenage girl? I don't care what you do with your room, just make sure to close your door so I don't have to look at it. Oh, also, you're in charge of all your own cleaning and washing. Don't expect me to become your mother or something."

Mike rolled his eyes, "Is there going to be a quiz? Because if so, I should start writing down all these rules."

"Possibly. Now, as far as dinner goes. You can use my kitchen to cook if you need t-"

Mike interrupted him by laughing, "Cook. Yeah, right. Who do you think I am, the Masterchef? I live off bar food and TV dinners."

"Fine," Vincent frowned, "Just don't expect me to feed you. Now, if you'll excuse me..." Vincent walked past Mike and up to his own bedroom. Mike heard the door open and shut behind him. Soon after, there was the click of a lock.

Mike wondered if Vincent was part of the occult or something, and hid his pentagrams in there. Plausible, for the creepy guy he was.

Walking back upstairs to his own room, Mike began to unpack. He threw all his clothes onto the floor, and found his collection of posters. Some of cars and football teams, some of ladies. Pulling out some blu-tac, he began pinning them up around the room. Other things he had, he threw on top of the cupboard. He wasn't really much of a keepsake person anyway, so he had very few personal items.

Mike groaned as he faced the stairs again. This was too much physical exercise for one day. Why couldn't Vincent just get a lift? But the food, the couch and the TV were downstairs, so Mike skipped down them two at a time.

He was surprised to see Vincent downstairs already, looking extremely suave in a suit.

"Woah, where are you going dressed up all fancy like that?" Mike asked.

Vincent gave Mike a little grin, "Didn't you know? Scott and I are going on our first date."