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It was the fifth day of me living alone, and the boredom got the best of me.

I was on the bed working on my laptop when I remembered Clay's drawer full of fidget toys.

I quickly put the laptop aside and crawled to the bedside table, opening every drawer until I found the one I was looking for.

There were so many random and complicated things in there that the simplicity moved my interest the most. I grabbed one of those small bouncy rubber balls and got back into position.

I remembered how Clay used to toss several of these against the wall in front of us, one after another, then skillfully catching them again. Given my lack of aim and balance, I could already see the balls smacking into my face if I attempted to use more than one.

So I tried with one ball. The first throw wasn't strong enough. The ball did ricochet, but it didn't reach me. The second attempt was an improvement, but it still didn't have the necessary force.

So I decided to go all out. Gathering all of my power, I lost half of my aim and threw the ball at the led lamp.

And oh my god, the way it shattered-

"Holy fuck- Clay?" I called out, then realized I'm home alone and will be for a while.

It was the main source of light in the bedroom. Breaking any other light just wouldn't have had the same effect; it had to be this one.

I quickly got up and started picking up the shattered glass pieces from the floor before Patches would step on them. Some of the small pieces were stuck in the fluffy rug, and I had no idea how to get them out.

I had to take Patches downstairs so she wouldn't hurt her little beans.

After cleaning out the big pieces, I brought out the big guns. Which was the vacuum. If it doesn't clean the rug, I'm throwing it away - both the rug and the vacuum.

The sounds of the sharp glass pieces hitting the tube of the vacuum were satisfying cause it meant my plan was working.

Well, it was satisfying until a huge piece got sucked in and got stuck.

"Oh my fucking god!" I yelled through the screeching sounds the engine of the vacuum was making and kicked it, trying to unclog it.

But when I smelled burnt plastic, I realized that kicking it wasn't the right choice.

I sat on the edge of the bed in silence.

I just broke two things in 10 minutes.

Clay's P.O.V.

It hasn't been a week, and everything already sucked so bad.

"Does it still hurt?" Nick took a massive bite out of his croissant and glanced at my untouched plate.

"It's not even my tooth anymore, it's my whole fucking jaw." I complained, sitting there with my cheek propped against my hand.

"I have painkillers on me, you want?" George emptied his glass and started digging in his bag.

I downed the pill, the third one for today, and hoped for the best. Even though the last two ones did nothing for me.

"Are you gonna eat that?" If you thought Nick was worried about me leaving my plate untouched, you're wrong. He wanted my food.

"You can have it," I saw his eyes sparkle with my words.

"I'll find a dentist for you tomorrow, don't worry."

Even though George's words were promising, I was still skeptical of the quality of the dentist he was gonna find in a foreign country when he didn't even understand the language they spoke.

They could be offering him a vet dentist, and he'd be like, "oui oui."

"Dude, why are you always on the brink of death? Like chill, enjoy your trip," Nick stuffed his mouth with so much food that I could barely understand what he was saying.

"By the way, you haven't called Liz today," George reminded me.

"I will once we get back to the hotel. But don't tell her about this whole thing, okay?" The last thing I wanted was to distract her from her college work and worry her with my stupid toothache.

I wonder what she's up to now. Probably sitting pretty at my desk and working on something. And Patches is probably napping on her lap like she always does. It's probably so calm and peaceful in the house without us. And clean. And organized.

I wish I was there.

Eliza's P.O.V.

I'm so glad Clay's not here to see the mess I created.

I tried to repair the vacuum, but when I plugged it in, the outlet sparked. Then there was the already familiar burnt scent which was almost sending my brain into a toxic shock.

Patches was outside of the bedroom, crying and scratching the door repeatedly, begging me to let her in. That made me feel even worse than anything that was going on.

I opened up the window to let some fresh air inside. But instead of air, I invited an army of mosquitoes.

Then my phone started ringing, reminding me that it was already getting dark outside, and I hadn't spoken to Clay today yet.

I totally forgot about texting George earlier and asking him to tell Clay to call me when he got the chance.

Climbing on the bed, I accepted the videocall and saw all three of them waving at me in sync. The only difference being the fact that two of them were grinning ear to ear while Clay was barely even smiling.

"Hiii," they dragged the word.

"Heeey," I did the same, holding my phone with one hand to wave with the other.

"Why is it so dark in the room?"

"Why do you look so sad?"

Clay and I asked almost simultaneously, but because he was a bit quicker, I had to answer first.

I didn't want to share the entire story of breaking the light, vacuum, outlet and almost creating a smoke hazard, so I simply switched on the bedside lamp and considered it a sufficient response.

His reply wasn't any more helpful than mine. Instead of providing a reason or an explanation, he responded with a toothy smile.

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