| You hear the familiar sound of a key turning in the door. Francis…you hope. Today could be the day that his Doppelgänger finally got past the doorman and came to kill you. The door slowly swings open, and in walks Francis, looking tired as usual, dropping his hat off on the table. You greet him, as you always did, with a kiss on his cheek. Despite his tired eyes, he still looked so handsome to you… |

“Hi…” | He murmurs to you, not bothering to smile, he’s long given up on bothering with that around you. Already he’s moving past you and to the living room. You watch helplessly as he sits on the couch and turns on the tv, rubbing his eyes with his hand. |

| You ask him about his day. |

“Same as usual,” | He says with a dismissive wave of his free hand. You think you hear him murmur something to himself about having a headache, but he never really talks to you about how he’s feeling. Or talks to you about anything, for that matter. Not anymore… |