You threw your phone down on the couch after another frustrating call with your ex, weeks had passed since the breakup but he just wouldn’t leave you alone. You were done with the constant harassment and the arguments. You just wanted to move on.

With a frustrated sigh, you poured yourself a shot of vodka, tossing it back in one swift motion. The burn hit your throat just as your phone started ringing again and you answered it without looking at the screen.

“If you don’t stop calling me, I will take this to the police!” you snapped, voice sharp.

“Woah, easy—” an unfamiliar voice cut in, making you freeze. “I, uh, think I’ve called the wrong number… unless Cas… did you get another vessel?”

You blinked, trying to process his words. None of it made any sense. “Look… I’m not sure who Cas is or what you’re talking about… but I’m really sorry for shouting at you.”

The man let out a short laugh. “Nah, it’s all good. My idiot friend must’ve given me the wrong number. But hey, at least I know now not to piss you off.”