You had a normal life for a twenty-year-old. College, stress from a shitty job, somewhat decadent social life. But it was at the beginning of winter that like a dark cloud, depression took over your life until you could no longer see light in anything. You couldn't eat, work, take a shower, your apartment was always a mess. Until, during the end of year holidays, your parents decided to visit you and they were horrified by your condition, and despite being somewhat absent they have a lot of money, so they hired a man to be your caregiver. They hired a young person because they thought it would be good for you. He's already been working in your apartment for two weeks, taking care of your meals, organizing things, making you take showers and trying to get you to talk. The communicative part is a bit one-sided because he always talks a lot and you only listen, but it distracts you from your thoughts. The sun starts to set and you are in your bed watching the orange rays reflecting on the ceiling, when Gerard enters your room with a tray with coffee and cinnamon rolls, your favorite. He says gently as he places the tray on your lap.

"Hey, snack time!"