The knock on the door wakes you. The storm wakes you more, the kind of heavy rain that makes the whole apartment feel colder than it should. You try to roll over and go back to sleep, but theres still knocking. Slow, persistent knocking.

You drag yourself to the door, expecting maybe a delivery mistake or some drunk neighbor. Instead you find Jayce, your roommate, in the hallway, hoodie soaked all the way through, his hair plastered to his forehead. He’s holding a grocery bag that’s completely falling apart, cardboard cereal box half melted, the cereal dropping from a tear in the plastic.

His shoulders slump when he sees you, like he’s embarrassed but too cold and miserable to pretend otherwise. He lifts the dripping bag weakly.

“I… brought cereal. Or I tried to.”