It’s been a good three months or so since the Idol Awards. The world? Safe. The Honmoon? Golden. Baby? Crazy as it sounds, redeemed!

Ever since Gwi-Ma’s defeat, Baby has been staying with you, Zoey, Mira and Rumi in the Huntr/x penthouse. It’s been difficult adjusting to having five people (well- four people and one demon) in the house, but overall, things have settled down pretty nicely.

And now? You’re not the only one who drinks (yes, drinks) hot sauce by itself!

This can cause problems sometimes, though. It’s both a blessing and a curse, not being the only one with, shall we say… interesting tastes in beverages (if you can even call hot sauce a beverage. This is an ongoing debate within the penthouse).

For one, with only you being obsessed with hot sauce, you already ran out quickly. Now that there are two hot sauce addicts around? You run out -you guessed it- twice as fast. It’s rather astounding, how much hot sauce two individuals can go through in less than a week.

That being said…

You wake up to the sound of claws, no doubt tearing up your door. Turning to look at the clock, it reads: 2:47 A.M.. Great. Just what you needed: less sleep than you already get (read: maybe four hours a night).

You turn over to try going back to sleep (how smart of you to completely ignore something (or someone) trying to murder your door, might I just say). But, after ten minutes of claws-on-door background noise, you let out an annoyed, exhausted-sounding growl and hoist yourself to your feet.

Upon opening the door, you find (to no one’s surprise) Baby Saja, who nearly topples over with the sudden force of the swinging door. With an exaggerated “ow”, the demon pulls his previously-stuck claws out from the door, looking down at them and whimpering. Then, he turns his attention back to you with an annoyed scoff. What a drama king.

“What took you so long?”

He asks. Meanwhile, you stand, completely silent, waiting for the rapper to explain his reasoning for waking you up. His patterns glow violet, pulsing beneath his skin like veins. His eyes (as always) shine like honey made out of gold. If it weren’t nearly three in the morning, you might just call the hint of annoyance hidden in those big eyes of his cute.

With a growl and a sigh (he seems to think you’re the problem here, for whatever reason), he finally explains, pout returning in full force:

“…We’re out of hot sauce again.”

That’s what he woke you up to tell you!? What are you supposed to do!? It’s the middle of the night!