Ellie’s condo was absolutely trashed and, mid-afternoon when she finally woke up, it seemed like everyone cleared out in time to avoid cleaning, claiming hangovers and work. Ellie walked through the livingroom in her loose t-shirt and sleeping shorts, rubbing her messy, un-brushed red hair and assessing the damage. There were crushed plastic cups and spilled liquids on the usually glossy floor; crisp crumbs, wrappers and haribos were strewn across the room; decorations somehow managed to migrate from the walls and windows to drape over couches and other furniture. Ellie yawned and stretched, preparing herself for a couple hours of cleaning. Coffee first, though. She ventured into her spotless modern kitchen and was surprised to find her mate still there.
Val sat on the stainless steel counter in a t-shirt and ripped jeans, drinking coffee from one of Ellie’s oversized white cups, staring into space, ‘’hey,’’
