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Alaric Storm, strangely enough, had slept well throughout last night, his body feeling oddly refreshed.

With his sharp nose, he picked up Violet’s scent saturating the room.

It was soothing, like warm velvet wrapping around him, and it was no wonder he stretched out like a satisfied cat, turning to the other side of the bed, ready to drift back into sweet sleep.

Suddenly, there was a low groaning from above. But Alaric didn’t think much of it. Or rather, he ignored it, assuming it was nothing.

And that was when the crash happened.

A whole chunk of plaster, complete with crumbling beams and a suspiciously heavy wooden plank, detached itself from the rafters and made a beeline for his regal face.

Alaric jolted awake, instantly buried in white dust and what looked like the ghost of ceiling past. Paint flakes fluttered around him like snowflakes, the dust clogging his nose and making his eyes water.

He hacked like an old man on his deathbed, clutching the sheet like a lifeline—only to slam his head against the bed frame mid-cough, letting out a string of colorful curses.

"Goddess help me!" Alaric shouted, spitting out what might have been a piece of old cobweb, and possibly a dead insect. Fuck his life. What kind of bad luck was this, this early in the morning?

There were no fatal injuries — small mercies — but he could definitely feel a bruise blooming under one eye, maybe a split lip where the plaster had smacked him too lovingly. As if that was not enough, a tiny cut ran down his temple, just enough to sting annoyingly.

He managed to crawl out from beneath the ruin and staggered to his feet like a drunk, only for the floorboard to snap beneath his feet and he flung face-first into the wall with a very undignified thud.

Another layer of dust rained down from above like the shack itself was mocking his very existence.

"Why... is this place a death trap?!" he wheezed, rising to his feet. And more importantly, why was he even here? His memory was blank. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall how he ended up sleeping in this nightmare of a shack.

And where the hell was Violet?

Even through the chaos, he could smell her scent, but it wasn’t strong as if she hadn’t spent the night here at all.

Covered in chalky white dust that had gotten into his eyes, Alaric found what looked like Violet’s bathroom (though it barely deserved the name) and limped toward it—yes, he could now feel a new throbbing pain at the spot.

He went in and tried to rinse his face in the sink, only for brown water to spurt out instead and splash directly into his mouth.

Eww.

Choking, Alaric stumbled back and knocked over a hanging shelf, which crashed down and smashed the toilet.

God, no!

At this point, Alaric didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or demand a refund from the moon goddess herself for waking him up today. One thing was certain, today didn’t seem to be a good day.

By the time he limped out of the bathroom, Violet’s roommates were already there. Lila—the one who usually looked at him like she’d happily murder him with a spoon—gave him an accusing look as her gaze took in the damage in the room.

"I swear to the gods, I didn’t do this," Alaric said quickly, hand raised in surrender.

"What in the fates happened here then?" Ivy was stunned.

"I was awoken by the screech of a collapsing ceiling. It’s a miracle it missed my head by inches."

At once, all three girls exchanged a loaded look that made Alaric feel like he was missing something very important.

Then Lila stepped forward, taunting him. "But now you’re covered in fine white powder and look like a marshmallow rolled in despair."

But the nerdy one, Daisy, he recalled, cut in. "I think we’re missing the most important thing here: Where’s Violet?"

They all turned to him like he was the answer to their question.

Alaric stared right back. "I don’t understand. Why are you asking me that?"

"Well, because Violet was last seen with you in this room last night," Lila shot back, "and we woke up this morning to find the entrance door half open with no sign of her anywhere."

"Well, I don’t know where she is," he replied, irritated. "Not when I don’t have a recollection of the rest of last night’s events after whatever you fed me.

" His eyes flashed as he glared at Lila.

"She obviously didn’t sleep here last night.

Otherwise, it would be both of us looking like a marshmallow rolled in despair. "

"Thankfully, she didn’t," Lila spat, glaring right back at him.

"Urm, guys..." Ivy suddenly said, eyes locked on her phone. "I think I know where Violet is."

"What?!" Both Lila and Alaric exclaimed at the same time, whipping their heads in her direction.

Lila and Daisy rushed to Ivy’s side to peek at the screen. Lila let out a horrified, "She’s with Asher?!"

"Why is she at the West House?!" Daisy shrieked. "Is she freaking out of her mind?!"

At the mention of Asher, Alaric’s eyes widened in surprise.Did she leave him for Asher?

Desperate to see for himself, Alaric patted around frantically for his phone only to realize it wasn’t on him. Where the hell did he put it?

Unable to bear the suspense, Alaric looked up at the girls. "Let me see."

He took a step toward them, but unbeknownst to him, Violet’s bed sheet was conveniently pooled on the floor. Alaric spectacularly tripped over it, his body sprawling face-first to the floor with a groan of pain and humiliation.

The girls stared down at him, stunned. Then actual pity appeared across their faces.

Maybe they’d gone a little too hard on the curse. Maybe it should’ve been an hour, not a full day. Because if this was just the start of Alaric’s morning, they didn’t even want to imagine how the rest of the day would go.

Face still smooshed into the ground, Alaric reached out a hand. Wordlessly, the girls handed him the phone.