Quarantine - {Kaylor}

One

Karlie's POV

"So far, the president has stated that all the measures to secure the citizen's lives have been taken. But with over twenty thousand deaths, Trump returned his weapons against WHO on Tuesday at the daily news conference on the coronavirus crisis and threatened to cut-"

"For God's sake..." I grab the remote in anger and mute the TV before I hear more of that moron's nonsense. "We're screwed, Joe Joe."

The dog looks at me expectantly fom his spot on the rug as I lie back on my couch, procceeding to eat what was left of the Cheetos. I try to ignore those little brown eyes, but he's insistent and annoyingly pokes on my arm with those fluffy little paws.

"What?" I stare and he tilts his head to the side curiously. "Yeah, I was in a diet, but can't you see we're in the middle of a pandemic?" I question as I take a sip of my coke, "I have the right to indulge myself as the world is falling apart and we're trapped alone in this flat."

Joe Joe lets out a small grumble and I give in, tapping on a space on the couch so he can lie down with me. I unmute the TV an skip through channels, trying to find something to watch that would distract me from the mess in the outside world.

There is nothing interesting enough and, after looking over the entire catalogues of Netflix, Amazon and Hulu, I end up opening the the Spotify app and let the suggestions playing automatically before I leave the room.

"Wow, Dua Lipa really is saving the music industry right now, isn't she?" I comment to myself when one of her new songs comes up.

It's close to 7PM, time to cook a quick dinner.

"What are we having tonight, big boy?" I ask the dog once I open the fridge to decide what to cook.

Got it. I smile to myself when I realize that I have the exact ingredients available for a simple and perfect dish.

Pasta;

Bacon;

Eggs;

Cheese;

I quickly organize my countertop with all the utensils I'll need to prepare my carbonara. Everything needs to be well planned before I start cooking, or the results can be very disastrous.

"Alright," I take a deep breath after boiling the water, "Let's go."

Talking to myself was becoming part of my routine after a week of isolation. It was getting harder and harder not to feel like we were all trying to survive some kind of apocalypse.

New York was completely paralized. There were no people in Times Square, neither millions of taxis on the streets. The big ads on billboards were watched from afar, by people inside their own apartments in midtown Manhattan. All of my jobs were canceled indefinitely, just as my classes at the university and workout sessions.

After only seven days I already felt like I was going to explode. The change in routine, or rather the total lack of one, was affecting me physically and psychologically. Add that to complete social isolation and people dying everywhere, we have the perfect recipe for emotional breakdown.

Speaking of recipes, the only thing that distracted me from all this hell was spending my time in the kitchen.

Listening to some catchy songs from the TV, I sway along as I prepare myself the carbonara, here and then granting Joe Joe a treat. My phone buzzes on the counter and I glance at it quickly to see a notification pop up.

*Message from Taylor*

"Nope!" I say, locking the screen immediately, "Not today, Satan."

Yes, I have been avoiding my friend. We hadn't seen each other since before all of this corona thing, so it's been a while.