Friday afternoon in Nico’s apartment was usually a sacred event. The deadlines were met, the emails were ignored, and the silence was absolute. The light hit the bookshelf just right, illuminating a small ceramic cat figurine on display between a multitude of books on illustration and graphic design. Nico was lying on the sofa, in his stay-at-home shorts, not that he left home much anyway. He was sketching a sleeping cat in his notepad. His posture guaranteed future back problems, but for now, Nico lay there comfortably.
Or at least he did until the doorbell rang. It was a long, insistent BUZZ that implied the person on the other side had either forgotten how buttons worked or was actively trying to execute a personal vendetta against the electrical wiring.
Nico froze. Please be a delivery, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. Please be a wrong address. Please be a Girl Scout who will go away if I stay very, very still. But the buzzing didn't stop.
Nico sighed, unfolding his limbs from the sofa. He grabbed a plain white t-shirt from a nearby chair and pulled it over his head. It was a simple cut that settled easily against his lean body. He ran a hand through his dark curls, trying to tame them into something socially acceptable, and shuffled to the door.
He opened it, and the hallway was immediately filled with chaos. Jamie stood there, a whirlwind in human form, holding two huge neon-colored duffel bags.
"So," Jamie said, breathless. "He dumped me. I think. It was a mutual train wreck. Can I… stay in your spare room for a bit?"
Nico looked at his friend's face, then at his bags. "Define 'a bit,'" Nico replied.
Jamie didn't wait. He barged in, dropping the bags with a thud that shook the floorboards. He pulled off his baseball cap, revealing his bald head, and tossed it onto the nearest surface. One of the bags immediately spilled open, vomiting a pile of gym clothes and a pink plastic flamingo onto the pristine rug.
"A week," Jamie said, already marching toward the kitchen like he had been living there for years. "Two weeks, max. You won’t even know I’m here." He opened the fridge. "Please tell me you have something to drink."
Nico stood in the doorway, watching his peaceful ecosystem collapse in real time. In a couple of hours, the apartment had been fully colonized. Jamie was sprawled on the sofa, shouting at his phone on a video call that felt less like a conversation and more like a hostage situation.
"...he said he needed ‘space’ but apparently ‘space’ looks a lot like his hot coworker, Chad!" Jamie yelled.
Nico sat at his desk. His noise-canceling headphones were losing the battle against the bearded chaos goblin. He stared at his screen, typing nothing. This is my karma, Nico thought. I shouldn't have ghosted that therapist.
Later that night, the energy finally crashed. The apartment was dark except for the blue flicker of the TV. They were both on the sofa now, slumped in defeat. Jamie had finally stopped vibrating.
"I know I'm being a lot," Jamie said quietly. "I thought… I thought he was it, you know? Didn't think I'd be starting over. Again."
Nico looked at him. It was hard to stay mad when Jamie looked like a kicked puppy.
"You said that when you were twenty-seven," Nico reminded him. "After you dated that DJ who only wore mesh." Jamie's eyebrows shot up. He leaned his head on Nico’s shoulder.
"Okay, but that was not my fault," Jamie said. "His music was objectively terrible."
Nico sighed, resigning himself to his fate. He reached over and grabbed the remote, pausing the show.
"I'll order the spicy pad thai," Nico said. "Extra peanuts."
Jamie perked up instantly, wiping a stray tear that might have been genuine or might have been theatrical. "You remembered."
"I always remember," Nico muttered, opening the delivery app. "It's the only thing that shuts you up."
Jamie let out a wet, grateful laugh and squeezed Nico’s arm. "You're the best. I promise, I’ll be the perfect roommate. I'll clean. I'll cook. I'll be a ghost."
That was a lie. The following afternoon, Nico was in the kitchen, trying to drink his cup of coffee, when a scream ripped through the apartment.
"I DON’T CARE! STOP CALLING ME!"
That was it. Compassion has a shelf life, and Nico’s had just expired. He was at the front door in thirty seconds, keys in hand. Jamie was standing in the living room, phone still in hand, looking suddenly guilty as he saw Nico fleeing the scene.
"I’ll go for a walk," Nico said.
"Ehm..." Jamie winced. "I'm sorry... It's too much."
Nico was already out the door. The streets of Verel were hot but peaceful that afternoon. He walked until his annoyance settled into a dull throb, hating his inability to react more appropriately. Then, a sign caught his eye.
"SUNBEAM CAT SHELTER."
It was a humble building tucked between two larger ones. He had walked past it countless times without a second glance. But today, the hand-painted sign, charmingly crooked, caught his eye. Kitties! Kitties would be great right now. Nico thought. It looked like a haven. He stepped inside.
Behind the reception desk sat a friendly-looking woman with a huge, gravity-defying ponytail. Further back in the room, a tall man was crouching, busy filling shelves with cat food.
"Hey there, welcome to Sunbeam," the woman said, looking up from a stack of paperwork. Her name tag read Chloe. "What can I do for you?"
Nico stood there, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. "Hi. I just... needed some quiet. Is it okay if I spend some time with the cats?"
Chloe beamed, her round cheeks bunching up. "Sure, the kitties love some company. First step is to sign you in as a volunteer."
"Oh, no, I only wanted to—" Nico started, but Chloe was already sliding a clipboard across the counter.
"Name and contact here, emergency contact there. It's a formality for insurance," she said, handing him a pen.
Nico looked at the pen. He looked at the door. He looked at Chloe’s expectant face. And he eventually took the pen. Coward... fine, for the kitties, he told himself.
"Ben!" Chloe called out, taking the signed form back. "Nico here just registered. Could you please give him a little tour?"
Before Nico could explain that he was barely qualified to take care of a plant, the man from the back walked over. When he straightened up, he kept unfolding. He was significantly taller than Nico expected. He had messy red hair and a beard that softened the line of his square jaw.
"Nice to meet you, Nico," he said. His voice was low and gentle. "I'm Ben."
Nico’s eyes darted down for a split second. Ben was wearing a soft henley that struggled a bit to contain his broad shoulders and solid, hefty torso.
Nico blinked, forcing his brain back online. "Hi."
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