More work

Rita doesn’t have a lot of free time, but when she does, sometimes she likes to play video games. Occasionally it will come up at dinner or something, and she’ll use words and phrases that you don’t understand. “Fetch quest,” is one of those.

You hurry through the woods, wishing you’d changed clothes before you came down here. Doing the woods in heels is a bitch. You don’t need Meg to tell you about Annette’s house or Annette’s two motherfucking separate bars. You know all about all that because you’re the one who organizes it. You order the liquor, you arrange it, you make sure there’s a copy of the bartender’s handbook there. You make sure she has fresh limes.

And you know damn well where her incredible house is that she lives in alone while you’re sharing an apartment with a woman who does more work in an hour than Annette does in a week.

You stop, panting, and control your temper. That last part isn’t true. Annette works her ass off, it’s just that her work seems… less terrible than yours. Mostly. She still has to deal with pissed off people, and maybe that’s the difference between you two. You deal with angry people who don’t matter, and she deals with important ones. Maybe her job is actually worse.

You reach her house and sneak up onto her back porch, but the flickering light from the rear of the house catches your attention. It looks like she’s using her movie room again. You walked in on this once: she was naked except for a robe, passed out drunk, and Game of Thrones was playing on her huge TV.

Very awkward. You better check on her, make sure she’s not passed out again.

She’s not! And she’s not alone.