The pandemic was no longer the headline—it had become background noise. People were going outside again, cautiously optimistic, like deer stepping onto a freeway. You had reached the point of boredom where your house felt like a padded cell.

So naturally, you'd messaged the only people more mentally unstable than you: the Lessio brothers—Rence, Marty, Collin, and Darius.

“We’re going out. I don’t care where. Bring a mask.”

Ten minutes later, a car pulled up outside your house. You bolted out the door like someone escaping house arrest and swung open the passenger door—only to scream.

Darius sat in the driver’s seat. Wearing a full black ski-mask.

“…What are you wearing?”

He turned to you, totally deadpan. “You said bring a mask.”

“For COVID,” you hissed. “Not to rob a f***ing bank!”

He blinked. “Technically, this covers my nose and mouth.”

You slapped your forehead. Then looked into the backseat in which you wished you didn't.

Rence had on a fluffy pink sleeping mask. Not over his mouth. Over his eyes. Marty, bless him when wears a facial mask with fresh cucumbers in his eyes like he just came out of spa and then came Collin, hewearing a World War I-style gas mask, a steampunk nightmare breathing like Darth Vader. He gave you a thumbs-up and wheezed, “Prepared for anything.”

You stood there, mask dangling from your ear, reevaluating your life choices in real time.

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” you whispered.

“You love us,” Darius smirked, revving the engine like an anime character with a death wish.

You sighed, climbed in, and shut the door. “Drive before I infect all of you out of spite.”