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Caitlyn shielded her head with a plastic bag, rain pouring down relentlessly. Soaked, she shoved open the door to her apartment building, the flickering lamp next to the entrance buzzing in sync with the patter of water dripping from the awning.
It was a quiet night. A late one—she’d spent fourteen hours at work, grinding through whatever assignment her client had dumped on her for the week. Monotonous. Meaningless. The weather didn’t help her mood. All she wanted now was to get inside, throw on White Lotus , and zone out.
“You okay? You look like you’ve got a toothache,” a voice cut through her frustration.
Caitlyn peeled the plastic bag off her head and looked up. A woman stood behind the receptionist desk, holding an Amazon package, her eyes soft with concern.
“Wh… Yes! Yes, everything is marvelous,” Caitlyn said quickly, shoving the soggy plastic into her purse. The woman raised a scarred eyebrow, then nodded silently. Caitlyn fumbled for a response, nodded back, and trudged up the stairs.
She dropped her purse in front of her apartment and started digging through her jacket for her keys. Front pockets, back pockets, pants pockets… Nothing . Nowhere were those blasted keys to be found.
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, burying her head in her damp hands. Hot tears welled in the corners of her eyes, frustration rising like steam through her chest. “I just want to relax,” she whispered into her hands.
Turning her back to the door, she slid down to the floor, knees pulled to her chest. She sat there, wet and still.
This felt karmic. For what, she wasn’t sure. Ever since she’d started this job, it felt like her luck had worn thin—like the days were plucking her hair out one by one until she’d be left with none.
But today… Today, she was sure she would implode.
“Hey, you—”
“I don’t want to talk,” Caitlyn snapped before the voice could finish. Head still buried in her arms, she sniffled, trying to gain control over her emotions.
“I’m sorry,” she added, softer this time. “I don’t mean to be rude. I’m having a not-so-great evening.”
There was a shuffle beside her. Then, warmth. The person who had been trying to speak with her sat next to her in silence. They didn’t say a word. They just sat there, breathing the same air, letting Caitlyn exist in the moment.
Caitlyn sat still, holding her breath as if any movement might shatter the progress she was making or scare away her new evening companion. But the presence next to her wasn’t demanding attention, wasn’t asking any questions. They remained. They sat. They melded with the moment around one another.
She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was comfortable having a human next to her right now. Having a presence was enough to get Caitlyn to feel comfortable again and look up.
When she did, she saw bright, grey eyes. Soft and steady.
It was the receptionist.
“That’s it,” the woman whispered. “You’re okay.”
The woman lifted her head slightly to capture Caitlyn’s gaze. The corner of her mouth tugged upward, her scar shifting gently with the movement.
Caitlyn didn’t know the woman next to her. Caitlyn didn’t know the woman next to her. Calling her an acquaintance was being generous. She recalled passing her on evening runs, always behind the desk, always there—a kind of constant. A theme in the background of Caitlyn’s life, built quietly by someone who didn’t even know her name.
Caitlyn cleared her throat.
“Thank you.”
The receptionist sat up straighter. “I’m Vi. I would help you out, but I just work here sorting packages and making sure there isn’t any funny business. Don’t have a master key or anything.”
The disappointment flashed across Caitlyn’s face before she could stop it. Vi caught it immediately and leaned in, cutting the silence.
“But, you can crash at my place. I live here too. I’ll be working the night shift, so I won’t be in much. If you don’t mind.”
Caitlyn blinked dumbly, not at the offer, but at the tone in Vi’s voice. It was sweet. It was genuine.
“You sure? I don’t want to impose,” Caitlyn responded, voice hoarse while she fiddled with her gown.
Vi simply shrugged. “It’s just one night. I don’t mind. I have clean clothes, I’m sure you can fit into them.”
Vi began to rise, her hand extended out to Caitlyn. “Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I had unexpected guests. I don’t mind at all. You also shouldn’t be dressed in rainwater for too long, you’ll catch a cold.”
Caitlyn let out a small laugh in disbelief. She was grateful for Vi, coming along like a hero, helping her. Her body ached. Her socks were soaked. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had offered her something without expecting anything back. Especially not after moving to the big city.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Thanks.”
Caitlyn stood up, joining hands with Vi. Vi led the way, her footsteps quiet against the worn carpet. Caitlyn followed, arms crossed tightly across her chest—not from cold, but from the strangeness of it all. Of being seen. Of saying yes.
Vi’s apartment wasn’t far from Caitlyn’s, a few doors down the hallway. Unlocking the apartment, Vi held the door open for Caitlyn.
Caitlyn stepped into the space. It’s small but lived-in. There were plants on the windowsill, a stack of graphic novels on the coffee table, and mismatched mugs by the kitchen sink. The TV seemed to have been left on for a while, playing reruns of SpongeBob SquarePants.
“Here, get out of those shoes. I’ll get you what you need,” Vi called, disappearing into the hallway.
Caitlyn shyly peeled off her socks, piling them on top of her wet shoes. She dropped her jacket next to the wet articles.
Vi tossed her a towel and offered her tea before heading out again. Caitlyn’s left alone, but something about the space makes her feel safe. She explored quietly, noticing a photo on the fridge: Vi with someone who looks like family—maybe a sister. She began wondering about the life Vi lives when she’s not sorting packages at the front desk.
Caitlyn settled herself on the couch, a weighted blanket folded neatly at her feet. The apartment was dimly lit, warm with the faint scent of bergamot and old paper. A mug—empty but clean—sat on the coffee table, and a lamp in the corner cast a gentle amber glow over everything.
She exhaled slowly. Her shoulders dropped for what felt like the first time in weeks.
It wasn’t much after all. It was a couch, a borrowed space, but it felt like a pocket of stillness carved out just for her. She tucked the blanket over her lap, letting the weight anchor her to something real. Something safe .
Outside, the rain had quieted to a whisper against the windows. Inside, Caitlyn let her gaze wander around the room: the row of books with cracked spines, a sketchbook left open on the counter, a sleepy cat curled on the windowsill like it had always belonged.
This wasn’t home. But it didn’t feel entirely foreign either.
She leaned back, closed her eyes, and let the silence wrap around her.
Until she heard the familiar click at the door.
“Hey, sorry,” Vi sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Shift was taken over earlier than expected. Hope it’s not a problem?”
Caitlyn sat up suddenly blinking away the sleep from her eyes. She glanced at the digital clock next to the lamp next to her. 9:55pm.
“No, not at all. Just resting,” she yawned.
Vi nodded like she expected that and made her way to her kitchen cabinet. She pulled out a small tin. “I’m going to take an edible. Do you want one?”
Caitlyn raised her eyebrow, “Do you offer one to all your soaked guests?”
Vi smirked, “Only the ones with a stick up their ass.”
Vi shook one onto her palm and held it out to Caitlyn. “You can say no.”
Caitlyn hesitated, and then a slow grin stretched across her face. She hadn’t thought about getting high since graduate school. It would be the perfect opportunity, a Friday night with a beautiful stranger in an unknown apartment.
God, when Caitlyn broke it down like that, it made the experience sound even stranger. Fuck it, when would she get this opportunity again?
Caitlyn sighed, “Sure, why not?”
Vi handed it to Caitlyn, their fingers brushing against one another. There was some sort of comfort in the gesture, as if Vi had done it a billion times with Caitlyn. It was as if this was the most natural occurrence between two people. Mundane and real.
Caitlyn studied the gummy in her hand. Peach-flavored.
“Cheers, cupcake,” Vi held up an edible to Caitlyn. Caitlyn nudged hers against Vi’s, and the duo popped them into their mouths.
Caitlyn moved her feet to make space for Vi. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The rain outside had now stopped entirely. All that was left was the hum of Vi’s old refrigerator and the heartbeats of two strangers who didn’t quite know each other.
“You know,” Vi cut the silence. She was good at that, taking Caitlyn out of the recesses of her somber. “It feels like I know you from somewhere.”
Caitlyn glanced over at Vi, her head beginning to feel heavy. The room began to expand and hug her at the same time, the audio from the TV sounding as if it were underwater. She swallowed, unsure whether it was the edible or the warmth in Vi's voice that was making everything blur.
“Hm,” Caitlyn hummed. “I had the same feeling. Is that why you decided to help? Or do you also tell this to other girls who have bad days?”
Vi chuckled, “I noticed you were having a bad day. I wanted to help.” She pulled her hair into a messy knot at the top of her head, then let her eyes rest lazily on Caitlyn.
Caitlyn responded with another hum, “You’re quite good at this for someone who just wants to help.”
Vi smirked, “Good at what? Am I making you blush, Caitlyn?”
Caitlyn closed her eyes, unfazed by Vi’s remark, the feeling of the edible becoming more and more palpable.
“Quite the opposite. I’ve been having bad days for the past… year or so? When I first moved to Zaun, all I did was work. I don’t know many people here, and it’s been tough. People here are hard to get along with,” Caitlyn let out a small chuckle.
Vi let out a soft laugh, not mocking—more like she understood. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, chin balanced on her fists.
“Corporate?”
Caitlyn held her gaze. There was a swirl of curiosity in Vi’s grey eyes, something quiet and searching, and it made Caitlyn want to keep talking. Made her want to tell Vi everything: her past, her doubts, her reasons for coming to Zaun in the first place.
Caitlyn nodded, eyes fluttering shut. She could still see Vi’s eyes behind her eyelids. A beautiful hue she wanted to memorize and get to know for longer than the night.
“Consulting. Vague deliverables, fake deadlines, endless iterations. I basically write emails to imaginary people.”
Vi whistled low, “Tragic. You’re too hot for that.”
Caitlyn leaned back into the cushions, letting herself be held. The world began to melt, and Vi’s voice coated everything like velvet. Caitlyn hummed in response, the sound barely above a whisper.
“You’re dangerous,” Caitlyn murmured, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Vi raised an eyebrow. “Because I complimented you?”
“No,” Caitlyn said, lips curling. “Because I might actually believe you.”
“You a lightweight?” Vi asked. She reached over and lit the candle on the coffee table.
“It’s just been a while. What about you?”
“What about me?” Vi asked. “Finally curious about your hero?”
“You flirt a lot when you’re high,” Caitlyn giggled, not recognizing her own voice. “Do you like being the apartment receptionist?”
Vi seemed to actually consider the question, her gaze drifting toward the candle’s flame, then back to Caitlyn. The pause stretched, not awkward. Just slow, like time was shifting to accommodate them.
It was becoming clear to Caitlyn that Vi, too, was slipping. That whatever edge she'd come in with had softened. The two of them were starting to blur at the edges: intertwining, orbiting each other in a new, quiet dimension.
“There’s nothing to hate about it. Some extra coin. I teach math at the middle school down the road, too. I need to make enough to take care of my sister.”
Caitlyn sat up in surprise. “Wait, you’re a teacher and a receptionist?!”
Vi shrugged, her head lolling to the side, her eyes grazing Caitlyn’s body in a brief, lingering sweep. The movement made Caitlyn’s ears burn with a flush, and her breath caught as their gazes tangled, the space between them growing heavier, more charged.
The flickering candlelight kissed the sharp line of Vi’s jaw, casting a glow that softened her features, her eyes somehow more intense, more inviting than before. Caitlyn couldn’t help but hold her gaze, caught in a current that seemed to hum in the air around them.
“Receptionist is more low-stakes. I like being around people, even if it’s just handing off boxes.”
“Math, though?” Caitlyn murmured, stretching her arms above her head, feeling weightless. The warmth from the edible made everything feel distant, and yet so close, as if the space between them had thinned.
“Why math?”
Vi let out a breath, part laugh, part sigh. “It’s honest. You can’t lie to a number. And when a kid solves something they thought was impossible, it feels like magic.”
Caitlyn’s heart skipped at the raw sincerity in Vi’s voice. There was something about the way she spoke, the passion in her tone, that made Caitlyn want to believe every word, to sink deeper into that truth. She smiled softly, the thought of Vi helping others lighting a warm feeling in her chest. She could almost see it: Vi, with her hands covered in marks from Expo markers, a kid jumping out of their seat in excitement.
Caitlyn tilted her head, studying Vi, letting her gaze linger for just a moment longer than usual. She hadn’t noticed the woman’s defined muscles before, straining under the fabric of her tank top.
“You don’t look like a math teacher.”
Vi arched an eyebrow, hand dragging through her red hair. “What do I look like?”
“I don’t know,” Caitlyn said slowly, considering the woman in front of her with a smile, “like someone who listens to indie playlists and reads banned books. Maybe used to boxing. Has a tragic backstory.”
Vi’s smirk deepened, and she leaned in a little, shoulder grazing against Caitlyn’s, lowering her voice just enough to make Caitlyn lean forward without realizing it. “Tragic, huh? And what makes you think I’m hiding a sad story, Caitlyn?”
Caitlyn’s smile softened as she met Vi’s gaze, her heart racing just a bit faster. “Call it a hunch,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, matching the shift in energy between them.
Caitlyn laughed again, looser this time, like it bubbled up from some place real. She met Vi’s gaze, her heart racing just a bit faster. “Call it a hunch,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, matching the shift in energy between them. The angular shapes on the woman’s face were gorgeous. Caitlyn scanned more, noticing Vi’s freckles, the tattoos curling around her body.
“You’re not what I expected when I thought I’d hit rock bottom today,” Caitlyn whispered. There was vulnerability in the statement.
Vi looked at her, then leaned back on the couch, her face angled toward the ceiling like she was watching stars only she could see.
“You’re not what I expected either.”
For a while, neither of them spoke. The candlelight danced, casting shadows that stretched across the walls, and the world outside felt impossibly far away, like it belonged to someone else. But the moment Caitlyn and Vi shared was theirs to hold onto.
Then Caitlyn asked, voice barely above a whisper, “Do you ever feel like… you’ve been surviving for so long that you forgot how to live?”
Vi didn’t answer right away. She turned her gaze to Caitlyn, something raw and unspoken in her eyes.
“Yeah,” Vi said. “Every day. Until I remember to stop pretending I’m okay.”
Caitlyn swallowed, her chest tightening, but not in a bad way. She shifted slightly under the blanket, her fingers absently tracing the soft fabric, grounding herself in the warmth.
“Will you be here in the morning?” she asked, suddenly shy.
Vi nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
Vi stood, stretched, then grabbed a spare comforter from the closet and tossed it gently over Caitlyn’s shoulders.
“Get some sleep. World’ll still be a mess tomorrow, but at least you’ll be warm.”
Vi’s fingers brushed over Caitlyn’s shoulders, ghosting over the wounds of Caitlyn’s past momentarily as if to ease them from the tension for only a little bit. The comfort was gone as soon as Caitlyn could feel it, like a fleeting touch of peace in a storm.
Caitlyn closed her eyes. For the first time in a long time, she believed it.