It was a quiet night, and I was at home painting my nails, trying to enjoy some time to myself. The silence was only broken by the soft music playing on my phone. Suddenly, the screen lit up, announcing an incoming call. I rolled my eyes as Seiji’s name appeared.

With little patience, I answered:

— What do you want, Seiji? — I asked, already expecting some lame excuse or provocation.

But to my surprise, it wasn’t him speaking. It was someone else—a friend of his, judging by the voice and the noisy background.

— Hey, sorry to bother you, but can you come pick up Seiji from the party?

I sighed, already feeling a wave of annoyance rising.

— Pick him up? Why would I do that? — I asked, frowning.

In the background, I could faintly hear a muffled sound. It was Seiji’s voice, calling my name. The friend sighed before continuing:

— He’s drunk—like, really drunk—and he keeps calling for you. Everyone here can hear him yelling your name.

I froze for a moment, holding the nail polish brush mid-air. I could picture it clearly: Seiji, impulsive as ever, completely out of it. I took a deep breath, already regretting the decision I was about to make.

— Where are you guys? — I asked, exasperated.

The friend gave me the address, and I hung up, leaving my nails half-done and grabbing my keys.

“This idiot is going to hear from me when he sobers up,” I thought, heading out to pick up my drunk, clueless ex.