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“Thank you,” I said, kissing her on the forehead. “I won’t let you down.”
“It’s not me you have to worry about,” she said. “It’s letting yourself down.”
She left with Qat on her heels.
I’d avoided a bullet.
Narrowly.
My party lifestyle was up.
At least, until I met Mom’s requirements. Then I could use it as leverage to negotiate. I would live the lifestyle she wanted for me and what I wanted for myself.
I stepped from the dining room and ran an eye over the bodies lying sprawled across my apartment.
I had thirty days to make the change.
And I needed to make them now.
“Thanks for coming,” I said, motioning the last partier out the door.
The partier had a straggly beard and unkempt hair. I had no idea who he was.
“Awesome party, dude,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said, unable to recall a single event from the previous night. “Thanks. Stop by again some time.”
“Will do,” the partier said, saluting me and heading down the hall.
“But come with an invitation,” I added hastily, in case he got the idea of stopping by at random.
I shut the door and leaned my back against it. I let out a breath and cast an eye over the discarded bottles and other garbage spread across the floor and tabletops.
The hologram TV was still on. Now it was some kind of music show.
Why didn’t I make them clean up after themselves?
Because they’re incapable of doing anything like that. Most looked incapable of dragging a comb through their hair.
Plus, there was the chance they might get the idea of lifting my things while they wandered around the apartment. The Creator knew I’d lost a lot of items that way in the past.
I grabbed a bin bag and set to placing everything inside it. I moved quickly and didn’t worry about the stains and spillages on the antique surfaces. By the look of it, they’d been there a long time already.
How long had it been since I last noticed my own home and the effect my exploits were having on it? A year? Two years? Five years?
“Are you dividing the items up?” Ettana said.
She stood in the doorway to the bedroom. She wore one of my shirts. Her makeup was smudged over her face and looked like a clown from one of my nightmares.
“Dividing the garbage up?” I said. “Why would I do that?”
“For recycling.”
“Oh. Of course I am. What do you take me for?”
She shrugged and turned on her heel to head back inside the bedroom. I hastily unloaded the glass and plastics and set to dividing them up.
“You can grab a bag and give me a hand if you like,” I said.
