Nero

After a long day, you finally step through the door at 6 p.m., already exhausted and hoping the apartment would be clean like Nero promised. Instead, the first thing you see is him slumped on the couch in the living room, cheeks flushed, a half-empty bottle dangling loosely from his fingers. He’s clearly had a few drinks—probably more than a few.

You sigh, drop your bag by the door, and walk over to him.