After a very awkward and silent shared dinner with Fylson and Eirlan where Dola had put on a sitcom and tried to crack some ill timed jokes that no one laughed at, she'd gone to her room tired and eager to escape the general air of agitation that hung heavy in the apartment.

They'd handle the dishes in the morning.

That said, once she was finally in her room, teeth brushed, freshly showered, and in her comfiest clothes, Dola found she couldn't sleep. Despite how tired she was, Dola found herself staring at the popcorn ceiling of her bedroom for hours. Her eyes stung from exhaustion. Her body ached from laying for too long on the cardboard thin mattress she'd bought off an old roommate that was only sorta comfortable if she was unconscious and yet she couldn't sleep.

Dola's stomach hurt, it was leaden and knotted in a way that had nothing to do with all of the ham, cheese, pineapple and dough that she'd had just a few hours ago. Taking a deep breath she tried to swallow the tingly, hollow feeling in her chest. Her mind was going a mile a minute, jumping from amused that this is how she got two hot guys to fight over her to horrified of the uncertainty of the situation she'd gotten herself into.

Feeling like her heart was climbing up her throat, Dola's hand moved for her phone and her cluttered room was bathed in the pale blue light of her screen as she tapped it on and looked at the time. 3 a.m.

In a few hours Dola would have to be at work with her fake plastered on smile and somehow it didn't seem like sleep was right over the horizon. With an annoyed groan Dola flicked her phone down into the tangle of sheets on her bed, tossing her head back and willing her burning eyes shut.

If she just quieted her mind and focused on her breath she could sleep; she learned that from a Youtube meditation video a few years ago. It didn't hurt to try. Willing her mind quiet she tried to focus on the silence but all she heard was the annoying uneven click and whir of her ceiling fan, her neighbors upstairs arguing and the loud crack of what she hoped was someone's car backfiring outside. Rolling on her side she tried again.

Her mind raced with thoughts that went by so fast that she couldn't catch them, thoughts that made her heart race despite their ephemeral nature. With an annoyed grunt she reached for her phone again. What she needed was a distraction, someone to vent to. Her chest squeezed tighter as she unlocked her phone, opened her contacts and looked at all three numbers: Fylson, her boss, and her landlord. Suddenly she felt unwell, her breath escaped her in a shallow laugh that felt like choking. Ridiculous. There was no one for her to talk to about this.

Then again, there was no one for her to talk to about anything really.

There had been a time when Dola had two phones; one for personal friends and one strictly for work. She'd been so in demand, her social life had been so packed. It was all work six days a week and parties in clubs whose names she couldn't wrap her mouth around nearly every night. Champagne had flowed as readily as the constant stream of people who wanted in her social circle.

At some point the work offers dried up and the contacts in her phone did too.

Emily who always invited her to Ibiza stopped replying to her, Grace who she went yachting with every summer stopped reaching out, Matt who'd told her her loved her more than the stars above them as they looked out over Paris from their presidential suite balcony of the five star hotel they'd booked now only texted her with generic holiday messages that she suspected were an oversight from his assistant.

Every now and then it struck her hard. The gravity that Dola thought she had back then, the pull that brought people to her wasn't real and everyone but her knew it. While she'd been thinking that she was special and that people liked her, they'd only liked that they were on the cover of magazines if they stood next to her at parties. There were no parties now, no yachts, no trips to Ibiza and no one to stand with her now that doing so got them nothing. Most days Dola was too busy trying to keep her head above water to really think about how very much her life had changed for the worst but even she had to take some time to feel sorry for herself sometimes.

The burn in her throat that followed the thought and the sting in her eyes quieted the jumble of thoughts in her mind as it settled into numb silence. This was all too much, her shitty job, her soul on the line, her fall from the stars. If she'd just been better back then, if she'd just known how good she'd had it, if she'd worked harder to keep it, if she'd been just been worth reaching out to, if she-

All of the pressure that had been building in her broke free. Hot tears streaked down her face before Dola pulled her pillow close, muffling her sob with the old, no longer fluffy thing and curling in on herself. Crying was dumb all it did was tire her out and it changed nothing. It didn't change that she had no one to call, it didn't change that she'd fallen from the life she'd worked so hard from, it didn't change that her soul was on the line.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

She often prided herself on dealing with things as they came and not letting it get to her, but this was one of those rare nights when a good cry was just necessary.

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Meanwhile

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"Did you hear that!?" Eirlan asked, looking around the living room as Fylson handed him a fuzzy yellow blanket that he'd pulled from the linen closet.

"Hear what?" Fylson grumbled, thrusting the blanket out to Eirlan again, ignoring the burn of frustration that was building in him. He was so annoyed that his throat ached from resisting the urge to scream.

"Are there vermin that live here?" Eirlan asked, eyes as wide as saucers and mouth turned down in disgust, "I read in my studies that there are often vermin that live in cramped housing such as this. I swear I heard something move." Eirlan looked around the apartment, lifting his feet from the floor and tucking them under him. Now that he got a good look at the speckled beige carpet under his socked feet he wasn't too sure about its sanitation level.

"There are none. You're hearing things." Fylson grumbled tossing the blanket at Eiraln's head when he took too long to take it.

"Hey!" Eirlan protested, snatching the blanket from his head. He'd just fixed his braid and not Fylson had messed it up again. The man was agitating for no reason.

"You know, neither of us want to be in this situation, I certainly don't want to be stuck here with you of all people-" Eirlan sneered looking at Fylson. Being in the same room with Fylson was an insult, much less sharing a contract with him. The last thing Eirlan needed so early in his fledgling career was to get caught up with someone as famously controversial as him. Eirlan had his whole life ahead of him and a plan for that life that he had no intention on letting get snagged on a road block like the man before him.

"Watch yourself Eirlan, your ugly is showing." Fylson shot back with a smile that was almost friendly, but a tone that was a warning.

"Hah. Hah." Eirlan replied dryly, "I'm just saying, I am only being accommodating to this arrangement to please Lady Dola. If we are going to have to cohabitate for an Earth week, I must remind you that you and I are not in this together and I would request that we do our own thing as much as possible." Eirlan sniffed, "Lest your family's bad fortune rub off on me." He couldn't help but add that on, years of overheard gossip that was now more common knowledge than gossip loosened his tongue.

It shocked him that Fylson had been allowed in the academy in the first place after what his family had done and then for Fylson to be placed with a host? Ugh! To share a roof with this man was a slight that simply didn't sit well with Eirlan. It was common knowledge that Fylson was a silver tongued snake and Eirlan was not going to let himself be tricked. He was here to do an exceptional job; nothing more and nothing less.

Eirlan watched as Fylson stiffened at the comment as still as granite. The only indication of his anger being the way his eyes flashed an unearthly red as power pooled in them before they eased back to brown before he broke into a tight, lopsided grin.

"You won't goad me into breaking your little pencil neck that easily." Fylson chuckled darkly wagging his finger at Eirlan before turning and heading back down the hall to his own room.

"As if you could break my neck." Eirlan mumbled as Fylson turned to go back down the hallway, "You'd be in so much trouble with E.E, not to mention management and the council." All of this Eirlan said to himself to comfort himself. If he was going to sleep here the last thing he wanted was to wake up to Fylson throttling him over one little, honest, comment.

"I absolutely could." The grin that had been on Fylson's face grew wide, mad even, his eyes were wild. "Like you said, my family has no fortune. I have nothing to lose but this job." Not a single clever to say came to Eirlan's mind or his suddenly dry mouth in that moment so he instead busied himself with fluffing his pillow with a huff.

"W-whatever. It won't come to that anyway. We've made an agreement already, until then let's be rational about this."

Fylson said nothing, he simply nodded before turning for his room down the hall. He'd only made it a few steps before stopping and spinning on his heel.

"Oh and by the way Eirlan, I lied."

"Shocker." Eirlan rolled his eyes still fluffing his pillow, "What about?" he demanded irritably, perfectly plucked brows arched in expectation.

"There are vermin here. Roaches, I'm sure you've seen them in your Earth studies. They're very resilient, especially the ones in this part of town. They like to lay eggs in the ears of little goody toe shoes like you. Maybe sleep with your ears covered." Fylson suggested plugging his ears in demonstration before turning for his room again tossing a carefree 'goodnight' over his shoulder as he did.

"Liar!" Eirlan called after him with a scowl. He fluffed his pillow one last time and flopped down. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. As he pulled the corners of the blanket up to cover his ears he told himself that it wasn't because he was scared of any Earth vermin, he knew Fylson was lying, it was just that the pipes were loud and he'd get no sleep if he had to hear that all night. That was all.