Page 1 of Messy AF (At First #3)

one

~ Tobias ~

G roaning, I blinked my eyes open, coming awake with an all-too-familiar sense of disorientation.

A sea of ash gray filled my vision, the hardwood gleaming in the sunlight that spilled through the windows. The plush fibers of the area rug rubbed against my cheek, and that weird carpet smell tickled my nose.

Carefully, I rolled onto my back, pleased to find that nothing hurt. I didn’t remember passing out, but I must have been aware enough to make it safely to the floor.

This time.

I hadn’t always been so lucky in the past, and I had the bruises to prove it. Waking up only inches from the heavy cedar chest that doubled as my coffee table, however, proved just how much worse it could have been.

As in, I might not have woken up at all.

With a quiet grunt, I pushed into a sitting position and bent my knees, bringing them to my chest. Although the elf at the apothecary had assured me that the side effects of the sleeping potion would wear off in a couple of weeks, I was starting to wonder if I would make it that long.

The whole thing had started innocently enough. After weeks of tossing and turning, I had just wanted a decent night’s sleep. I still didn’t know what exactly had triggered my insomnia, but I had tried every over-the-counter and homeopathic remedy under the sun without success.

Desperation had led me to the apothecary, and to some…questionable decisions. Mr. Rohdair, the ancient elf who owned the shop, had assured me the sleep potion was safe and effective for humans.

I probably should have read the fine print.

While the tonic had certainly been successful—I’d slept for a solid sixteen hours that first night—the side effects had been unexpected.

The dizziness and nausea hadn’t necessarily surprised me. I could probably even deal with the wobbly legs and random ringing in my ears. The exhaustion, however, had been next-level.

With one tiny vial, I had gone from being unable to sleep for more than an hour at a time, to falling asleep whether I wanted to or not.

No amount of caffeine could counteract the drowsiness. Exercise only made the problem worse. When it hit, seemingly nothing could stop it. In the days since it had started, I’d sort of learned to recognize the signs, at least to some degree.

In the beginning, though, it had led to some pretty dangerous situations.

I had fallen asleep in the shower. I’d dozed off while cooking. I had woken up on my front porch surrounded by scattered envelopes after checking my mail.

While I believed the effects of the potion would eventually fade, it had become increasingly obvious that I couldn’t keep going like this.

Since I lived alone, if something serious happened, no one would be there to help me. On the other hand, I didn’t want to burden my friends or family by asking them to drop everything and babysit me. Especially when I had no idea how long I would require their assistance.

I didn’t need a live-in nurse or a home health professional. Just someone to aid with basic tasks and make sure I didn’t crack my head open when an unscheduled nap struck. Someone with built-in safeguards so I could feel at ease having them in my home.

Pushing to my feet, I took my time, testing my steadiness before moving to the sofa to retrieve my phone from the armrest. Then I curled into the corner of the sectional and brought up the MNSTR app.

The Magical Network of Specialized Task Resources connected shadelings and humans for an array of different jobs that ranged from practical to wildly arcane. From repairing leaking faucets to warding homes with protection sigils, the app had an agent for just about everything.

When I had first moved into the two-bedroom cottage on the outskirts of Circle City, I had hired a warlock to purge the negative energy from any previous tenants. Once a month, I contracted a nixie to deep clean the cottage with enchantments rather than chemicals.

I had even paid for premium services, like having tapas portaled directly from Spain, just for the experience. It had been worth every penny.

Rather than wasting time searching categories and reading reviews of agents, I immediately opened the chat feature. It had been surprisingly helpful in the past, and if nothing else, I figured the MNSTR bot could at least point me in the right direction.

TOBIAS: I need a live-in caretaker for a week, maybe two, while I recover.

The response came immediately.

MNSTR: Oh, being sick or injured is the worst. That must be incredibly frustrating, but don’t worry. We’ll find someone to help you. Can you tell me more about your situation or preferences so I can recommend the perfect agent for the job?

I paused to think about it, realizing I didn’t entirely know what I needed beyond general help. Should I ask for someone who knew basic first aid? Did I want someone who could cook? Or just another body nearby so I didn’t burn down the kitchen?

TOBIAS: I took a magical remedy for insomnia. Now I can’t control when I fall asleep. I’m also experiencing dizziness and muscle weakness.

MNSTR: Thank you for sharing that with me.

Not being in control of your own body must feel scary.

First, let me assure you that what you’re describing are known side effects in humans and should fade soon.

Until they do, I’ve found some top-rated agents who can help make things easier while you recover.

It said a lot about how hard I’d been spiraling that reassurance from a chatbot actually made me feel better.

Placing a hand over my mouth to stifle a yawn, I minimized the chat window so I could view the selection that appeared behind it on the screen. While a bit surprised to find only two profiles waiting for me, it did make the process easier.

Both had excellent reviews, though I wouldn’t call them evenly matched since the male had nearly triple the number of ratings.

Warren Frost. Vampire. Designated as a preferred agent, meaning he had completed over five hundred tasks with MNSTR. He also had nearly a decade of experience as a paramedic, which could definitely come in handy given my current situation.

Assigning personality based on a photo was presumptuous, but I couldn’t help but think that he had kind eyes. Round and wide set, his dark gray irises seemed to sparkle, reflecting the smile that graced his full lips.

Despite clearly being in popular demand, he had immediate availability, whereas the female wouldn’t be able to start for another week. And with that, the decision practically made itself.

Familiar with the process by now, it took only a few minutes to review the documents, sign the agreement, and place my refundable deposit. The task forms took a little more time, mostly because I wanted to be as detailed as possible so he could make an informed decision about the job.

Now, I just had to wait to see if he would accept my request. Knowing it could take up to twenty-four hours to receive a response, I tossed my phone onto the cushion beside me and reached for the television remote.

Barely five minutes later, my phone buzzed with a notification.

Task Accepted.

Before I could even register the relief, I received another notification informing me I had an in-app message from my task agent. I opened it immediately.

WARREN: Hello, Tobias. My name is Warren Frost, and I’m looking forward to working with you. In your request, you mentioned you wanted to start as soon as possible. I can be there within the hour, if that works for you.

I hadn’t expected such a quick response, let alone for him to be able to start the same day. My stomach fluttered with nerves at the idea of inviting a stranger into my house, but I took a deep breath and typed out my response.

TOBIAS: That would be perfect. Thank you!

WARREN: Great! I’ll see you then.

Dropping my phone again, I sighed. I had thought I would have more time to mentally prepare before his arrival, but in some ways, this might be better.

It meant less time to worry and second-guess myself.

Besides, if he ended up being awful, I had twenty-four hours to cancel the job and get my deposit back.

For the sake of distraction, I forced myself up from the sofa on legs that felt like jelly and headed for the spare bedroom. I rarely had visitors, and never overnight guests, so the space didn’t need much tidying, but I should probably dust and change the bedding.

I made it as far as the hallway when the doorbell rang.

Frowning, I turned and shuffled back across the living room to the front door.

Unless I had passed out and lost time again, Warren couldn’t be there already.

Once I made it close enough to see the familiar face on the security monitor mounted on the wall, however, my anxiety faded, and I opened the door with a genuine smile.

“Hey, Peter.” I stepped aside, inviting him in with a wave of my hand. “What are you doing here?”

Wearing a white button-down with a tie and slacks, he looked as if he had come directly from work.

He mirrored my smile as he stepped across the threshold, but it didn’t look sincere.

Stress lines creased the corners of his eyes, and his sandy brown hair looked mussed, as if he had repeatedly run his fingers through it.

“Is everything okay?” I asked when he didn’t say anything.

“What?” He looked up and blinked, his expression clearing. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I just wanted to stop by and check on you.”

I had lived next door to Peter Kelley for two years, and he had always been a good neighbor. We spoke often and even shared a drink or a pizza on occasion. Still, I wouldn’t consider him a close friend.

“That’s nice of you, but I’m okay.” While I had confided in him about the insomnia weeks ago, I hadn’t told him about the side effects of the sleeping potion. “Why do you ask?”

“I, uh, I haven’t seen you around lately.”

“I’ve just been busy with work,” I hedged.

Not a lie, if maybe not the entire truth.

As a freelance editor, focus was crucial, and sadly, something in short supply these days.

Between the brain fog, the fatigue, and the impromptu naps, every job took twice as much time and effort, but I still had deadlines. I still had people depending on me.

Mostly, however, I hadn’t left my house in the past week because I didn’t want to collapse in the middle of a grocery store or a busy intersection. Peter didn’t need to know that, though.

“I understand that,” he responded with a quiet chuckle. “In that case, I’ll get out of your hair. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“I’m fine, really,” I assured him again. I hadn’t meant to worry him, but I appreciated his concern. “It was nice of you to check on me.”

“It’s no big deal.” He rubbed his hands together and glanced around the living room. “Is there anything you need before I take off?”

“Thanks, but I can’t think of anything.”

We said our goodbyes after that, and I watched him jog down the porch steps on the security monitor with a frown. I liked Peter, and while he hadn’t said anything alarming, something about the energy of the exchange felt…off.

Maybe he’d had a bad day at work, or perhaps some other stressful event had happened in his life. I felt a little guilty that I hadn’t probed deeper, but then again, I barely had the bandwidth to deal with my own problems. I definitely didn’t have the capacity to take on someone else’s.

Shaking my head, I turned away from the door and went to prepare for Warren’s arrival.