Page 2 of Messy AF
TOBIAS:I took a magical remedy for insomnia. Now I can’t control when I fall asleep. I’m also experiencing dizziness and muscle weakness.
MNSTR:Thank you for sharing that with me. Not being in control of your own body must feel scary. First, let me assure you that what you’re describing are known side effects in humans and should fade soon. Until they do, I’ve found some top-rated agents who can help make things easier while you recover.
It said a lot about how hard I’d been spiraling that reassurance from a chatbot actually made me feel better.
Placing a hand over my mouth to stifle a yawn, I minimized the chat window so I could view the selection that appeared behind it on the screen. While a bit surprised to find only two profiles waiting for me, it did make the process easier.
Both had excellent reviews, though I wouldn’t call them evenly matched since the male had nearly triple the number of ratings.
Warren Frost. Vampire. Designated as a preferred agent, meaning he had completed over five hundred tasks with MNSTR. He also had nearly a decade of experience as a paramedic, which could definitely come in handy given my current situation.
Assigning personality based on a photo was presumptuous, but I couldn’t help but think that he had kind eyes. Round and wide set, his dark gray irises seemed to sparkle, reflecting the smile that graced his full lips.
Despite clearly being in popular demand, he had immediate availability, whereas the female wouldn’t be able to start for another week. And with that, the decision practically made itself.
Familiar with the process by now, it took only a few minutes to review the documents, sign the agreement, and place my refundable deposit. The task forms took a little more time, mostly because I wanted to be as detailed as possible so he could make an informed decision about the job.
Now, I just had to wait to see if he would accept my request. Knowing it could take up to twenty-four hours to receive a response, I tossed my phone onto the cushion beside me and reached for the television remote.
Barely five minutes later, my phone buzzed with a notification.
Task Accepted.
Before I could even register the relief, I received another notification informing me I had an in-app message from my task agent. I opened it immediately.
WARREN:Hello, Tobias. My name is Warren Frost, and I’m looking forward to working with you. In your request, you mentioned you wanted to start as soon as possible. I can be there within the hour, if that works for you.
I hadn’t expected such a quick response, let alone for him to be able to start the same day. My stomach fluttered with nerves at the idea of inviting a stranger into my house, but I took a deep breath and typed out my response.
TOBIAS:That would be perfect. Thank you!
WARREN:Great!I’ll see you then.
Dropping my phone again, I sighed. I had thought I would have more time to mentally prepare before his arrival, but in some ways, this might be better. It meant less time to worry and second-guess myself. Besides, if he ended up being awful, I had twenty-four hours to cancel the job and get my deposit back.
For the sake of distraction, I forced myself up from the sofa on legs that felt like jelly and headed for the spare bedroom. I rarely had visitors, and never overnight guests, so the space didn’t need much tidying, but I should probably dust and change the bedding.
I made it as far as the hallway when the doorbell rang.
Frowning, I turned and shuffled back across the living room to the front door. Unless I had passed out and lost time again, Warren couldn’t be there already. Once I made it close enough to see the familiar face on the security monitor mounted on the wall, however, my anxiety faded, and I opened the door with a genuine smile.
“Hey, Peter.” I stepped aside, inviting him in with a wave of my hand. “What are you doing here?”
Wearing a white button-down with a tie and slacks, he looked as if he had come directly from work. He mirrored my smile as he stepped across the threshold, but it didn’t look sincere. Stress lines creased the corners of his eyes, and his sandy brown hair looked mussed, as if he had repeatedly run his fingers through it.
“Is everything okay?” I asked when he didn’t say anything.
“What?” He looked up and blinked, his expression clearing. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I just wanted to stop by and check on you.”
I had lived next door to Peter Kelley for two years, and he had always been a good neighbor. We spoke often and even shared a drink or a pizza on occasion. Still, I wouldn’t consider him a close friend.
“That’s nice of you, but I’m okay.” While I had confided in him about the insomnia weeks ago, I hadn’t told him about the side effects of the sleeping potion. “Why do you ask?”
“I, uh, I haven’t seen you around lately.”
“I’ve just been busy with work,” I hedged.
Not a lie, if maybe not the entire truth. As a freelance editor, focus was crucial, and sadly, something in short supply these days. Between the brain fog, the fatigue, and the impromptu naps, every job took twice as much time and effort, but I still had deadlines. I still had people depending on me.
