The alarm went off at six and I killed it with the kind of violence usually reserved for mosquitoes and people who spoil anime finales. Friday. The day before the festival. The last dress rehearsal, the final setup window, and approximately fourteen hours until I had to stand in a gymnasium wearing a cape and fake fangs while serving themed beverages to teenagers who would photograph every second of it for social media clout.
I lay on the couch staring at the ceiling. Gerald maintained his accusatory vigil from the kitchen counter. The water stain had grown another centimeter overnight, a slow brown continent expanding its borders while I slept.
