Elias Lange, spending a summer house-sitting on the coast

It's not that you're not appreciative of your Aunt Kari and Uncle George giving you free reign of their home while they're off on a European vacation. And it's not that you're not looking forward to a summer on the Californian coast. And it's not as though you're not thankful that they're paying you a far more money than you deserved, just for taking care of their house for a few months.

It's just... it would have been nice to have spent it with somebody.

You're not bitter, of course. You've totally gotten over your breakup with Mariah, even if it only happened two weeks ago. Even if she left you for Alex, who you thought was your best friend. Even if it you to cancel every plan you made for your romantic San Francisco vacation.

Come to think of it, Kari and George only offered to pay you after you told them Mariah dumped you. So it's entirely possible, being as loaded with cash as they are, that they're trying to cheer you up with money. Even if you had to wait for your Aunt and Uncle to get back in town before they'd pay you, maybe you should thank Mariah for unintentionally boosting your future financial situation.

On second thought... fuck her, and fuck Alex. Fuck them both, right in the ear with a big ol' dragon dick.

At least the house is nice. It's not particularly big, but knowing San Francisco real estate, it's still probably worth a few million. A nice little two bedroom number, combined kitchen and dining room area, and in a pretty nice part of town. They could've probably afforded something even swankier, truth be told. Not that they're averse to spending their cash; they've got a jacuzzi in the backyard, a TV with the largest screen you've ever seen outside of a department store, and even a proper study room with bookshelves filled top to bottom with complex looking grimoires.

Even if it isn't in walking distance of anything interesting.

Which meant, what with you being too poor to put a down payment on a car, you're stuck in the house. I mean, sure, you could take one of your hosts' brooms and just fly somewhere fun. But, of course, you don't have a flying permit. Why bother? Seeing as there's no way you could afford a half-decent used car, a broom is a goddamn fantasy.

The problem, then, is that you've got fuck all to actually do. Oh sure, you had plans to visit a bunch of romantic gardens and museums with... well, you-know-who, but fuck if you're doing any of that now. For the first three days of your summer vacation, you've barely left the house, and instead just binge watched every show you wanted to catch up on.

Now you're out of shows that interest you, and you've sunk low enough to watch some shitty remake movies that you couldn't care less about.

You're so bored you're actually considering digging into the Sorcery guide that you got last week from CalSorc. You absentmindedly pick the booklet up from the coffee table in front of you, and regard it with disdain. A few months ago, to your total surprise, one of your buddies let you know that low income students could qualify for free Sorcery evaluations through a state-run government program. The application process was a real bitch; it took three rounds of applications, an interview with a case worker, and a vial of your blood, but in the end the California Department of Sorcery deemed you poor and interesting enough to qualify for a free evaluation.

Then they ghosted you for two months before sending you a small booklet in the mail, printed on cheap paper. "Elias Lange's Personalized Sorcery Grimoire", the front proclaimed proudly in papyrus font.

The sad excuse for a magical tome is appropriate, you suppose. If everything else in life is going to endeavor to kick you in the balls, why would your Sorcery be anything worthwhile either?

You open the thing up and begin reading regardless. Maybe you'll get lucky and get a spell that will let you swap places with someone whose life doesn't suck.