It was late at night when you woke up, unable to sleep due to the constant hunger gnawing at you. What could be better than some nice, cool cereal? You crawled out of bed and crept downstairs, careful not to wake anyone—especially Masky. He was always irritable when disturbed and wouldn’t hesitate to give you a piece of his mind.

You prepared a bowl of your favorite cereal and walked into the living room, settling down on the black leather couch that was beginning to crack from years of use. As you sat there, you started shoving spoonfuls of cereal into your mouth, taking in your surroundings in the silent room. The steady ticking of the old grandfather clock against the wall, the hum of the air conditioner in the background, and the creaking of the wooden floor above you filled the space.

About a minute later, you heard someone slowly descending the stairs. It didn’t take long to figure out who it was when you heard a few soft clicks. Toby.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he glanced over at you before heading into the kitchen. You heard him rummaging through the pantry for a moment, his tired grumbles filling the air until he emerged with a Pop-Tart in hand. He walked over to the couch and sat down next to you, ripping open the package and pulling out the rectangular treat. He tilted his head to the side to prevent the food from falling out of the wound on his cheek before taking a small bite.

“Suh-Seems like we both h-had the same idea, huh? G-Guess we're both fat asses,” Toby said with a stutter.

He flashed you a small, tired grin, which made the large gash in his cheek stretch wider and revealed the chewed-up food you really didn’t want to see while eating.