It was July 31st.
Once again, there was nothing particularly wrong with that date. But, as fate would have it, that was the day everything decided to go to hell.
I was at a complete loss for words.
My apartment felt like an oven thanks to a broken air conditioner. Apparently, there was a heavy storm yesterday and such as a result, lightning had struck during the night, frying most of the building's circuitry, taking out nearly 80% of my electrical appliances in the process. The fridge was gone, and so were its contents.
When I tried to salvage the day by eating one of my emergency cup noodles, I managed to spill the entire thing into the sink. With no other choice, I decided to eat out, only to step on my ATM card while looking for my wallet, snapping it clean in half.
And just when I thought the universe had finally exhausted its sense of humor, I dragged myself back to bed in defeat… only to be jolted awake by my phone's obnoxious notification tone.
It was a debit alert.
Apparently, a subscription I had already canceled had decided to charge me anyway!
That was the moment I realized, today wasn't just a bad day. It was my "kind" of bad day!
Something had to be wrong.
They say those born between January 20th and February 18th are blessed with the greatest luck in love, work, and money. Supposedly, no matter how bad things get, fortune always finds a way to smile on them. Go play the lottery! they say. Just don't date four or five people at once, and everything will turn out fine!
What a load of crap.
I've never experienced even a shred of that so-called good luck; neither with work, nor with women or with life as a whole.
Have you ever felt like you were the universe's personal punching bag?
Forget it, you're not. I can tell you that for sure. Because that role's already taken. By me.
Contrary to what those delusional TV horoscopes claim, fate doesn't give a damn about birthdays or zodiac signs. Those things are about as accurate as the weather forecast on a bad channel. It was so hilariously off that it stops being funny after the third disaster in a row.
Helplessly, I sighed.
The ceiling fan above me groaned as it rotated weakly. My body felt sticky from the heat, my throat felt unbelievably dry, and my patience was dangerously close to evaporating.
I stared blankly at the ceiling for a while, contemplating my life choices or rather, the lack of them.
"Maybe I was a war criminal in my past life. That would explain… all of this."
For a moment, I considered going back to sleep and pretending none of it happened. But judging from my luck, I'd probably wake up to find the bed on fire, or the roof caved in.
No, better not tempt fate.
"…Now then. The immediate problems are my card and the fridge."
I scratched my head and scanned the room with a sigh. As long as I still had my bankbook, getting a replacement card wouldn't be too difficult. The real problem, however, was the fridge or more accurately, breakfast.
Starting the day on an empty stomach was far from ideal.
My stomach gave a low, pitiful growl as if to agree.
I grimaced.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you."
As I changed out of my pajamas, I remembered there was a convenience store located close by. Living up to my title as an idiotic, unemployed twenty-five-year-old, I'd spent the entire night playing some mind-numbing mobile game, so a dull ache throbbed at the back of my sleep-deprived head.
Even so, I had to push through it somehow.
I opened the door, stepped out, and locked it behind me with a faint click before trudging toward the elevator. Following that, I proceeded out of the apartment complex and walked down the road.
Fortunately, the convenience store wasn't far, and it only took about five to ten minutes to get there. Upon entering, I immediately noticed the female cashier.
The slender woman looked about two years younger than me, give or take, smooth fair skin and brown eyes. Her dark pink hair was styled into a short, blunt bob cut. She had a pronounced pear-shaped figure and wore her usual work attire: which appeared as a neatly fitted uniform shirt tucked into her black slacks, complete with a name tag and apron.
She looked as professional as a cashier from a lowly convenience store could look, but her expressionless face gave her quite the unapproachable air.
Written on the name tag was [Zoey Pierce].
The person who lived right next to my room. She had moved into the apartment complex two years ago. Since we were neighbors, I could tell she lived alone, just like me. But unlike me, she seemed to come from a loving family. The young lady was simply more independent, perhaps she wanted a degree of freedom.
From time to time, we'd run into each other and exchange polite greetings. We even had a few interesting conservations too. Sadly, that was the extent of our so-called relationship.
How should I approach?
There was no need to be overly friendly, but I didn't want to come off as cold either. After all, we weren't complete strangers.
As that thought crossed my mind, I pressed my lips together and forced a smile while stepping forward. It was probably the worst smile I'd ever managed.
"Hey, Zoey. How are you doing?"
Crap. What had I said about not being overly friendly? Clearly, my communication skills needed some work.
Zoey blinked at me for a moment, her dark eyes narrowing slightly, before a small, polite smile tugged at her lips.
"Oh, Casey… It's nice to see you. I'm doing well. You?"
"Ah… yeah, I'm… surviving, somewhat. Though I'm a little pained. All my electrical appliances got fired because of that lightning storm yesterday night."
"Tsk. You're not the only one," she said with a voice tinged with mild annoyance. "Apparently, the whole building got fried. I lost my fridge too, and half the stuff I bought for the week. It's a mess. Now I have to work extra shifts!"
"Well, that sucks. Guess I'm not alone in this disaster. The universe seems exceptionally fierce today. Normal misfortune clearly isn't enough for its amusement."
"Why are you talking like an old man? Anyway, aren't you going to buy something?"
"That's why I'm here, right? So it's obvious I'm going to buy something. Are you worried about your boss?"
"W-Wha… N-No! I have zero clue what you're talking about, dear customer!" Zoey stammered with a wide smile that clearly screamed forced.
I narrowed my eyes.
Seems like she was limited by what she could say on the job. Modern jobs really are stressful.
…Ugh. Can't be helped. I should probably just grab what I came for and leave.
I turned toward the shelves, pretending to examine the instant noodles like a connoisseur judging fine wine. My stomach growled again, as if reminding me it didn't care about subtlety or social decorum.
Carefully, I reached for a cup, only to knock over a small stack of bottled drinks with a loud clatter.
"Ah—!" I yelped, lunging to catch them, but one slipped through my fingers and rolled across the floor.
Zoey'e eyes widened and immediately scolded:
"Oh my God! What did you do?! Don't break the bottles! Are you trying to get me fired!?"
"I'm soooorrry! I'm a hazard to society so please forgive this old man!"
"Stop speaking like that, God damn it!"
As I finally stacked the bottles back on the shelf, I noticed Zoey watching me. No, it was more accurate to say that she was glaring at me.
I apologized, didn't I?
"What?"
"Are you… always this clumsy?" she asked.
"It's not like I do this on purpose. I really try not to be. But I'm just an unfortunate individual."
"Is that your excuse? Are you going to blame everything on misfortune?"
"What?"
She sighed. "It's nothing. How do you want to pay?"
"Um. Is it possible to do a transfer?"
"Huh? A transfer? What happened to your card?"
Embarrassed, I scratched my cheek then proceeded to explain:
"About that... It's a bit of a funny story. You see, my ATM card decided to snap in half this morning while I was looking for my wallet. And to make matters worse, every appliance in my apartment seems to have spontaneously combusted after a lightning strike. Breakfast was supposed to be simple… but apparently, the universe had other plans."
Zoey blinked.
"Wow… that's… something. And you want to do a transfer instead of paying with cash?"
I nodded sheepishly.
"Yeah… sorry about that. I know it's kind of an annoying request."
She let out a soft sigh. "It's fine. Just give me a sec."
As she tapped at the register to initiate the transfer, I shifted from foot to foot, trying not to knock over anything else.
What a productive conservation.
The transfer completed, and Zoey handed me a receipt along with my purchases. "Here you go. And oh, try not to break anything on your way out."
I took the items with exaggerated care, nodding solemnly.
"Yes, ma'am. I shall tread lightly through this treacherous world!"
Zoey rolled her eyes.
"Just go already. I have other customers to attend to."
I shot her a sharp glare.
Who exactly was she trying to fool? The store was practically empty, just the two of us.
Still, I didn't call her out. Instead, I turned and started toward the exit, groceries in hand but paused right in front of the door. I lingered for a moment, then turned my head back to face her.
"Also… there's something I've been meaning to say for a while now."
For some reason, her eyes lit up like a torch.
"Oh?! Don't tell me this one of those moments where you confess your undying love to me? If so then…"
"Do you think reality's a romance movie? I just wanted to complain about the noise in the apartment."
"…Oh?"
"I get that everyone has their needs, but you really should be considerate of others. If you want to have fun with your boyfriend, go to a love hotel. The walls in the apartment aren't as thick as you think."
"W-Wait… W-What…?"
By the time I finished, Zoey was completely flustered and speechless. She clearly understood the message I was trying to convey.
Why was she so surprised? Did she think no one could hear…?
It was irritating. Of course, not that I was bitter about being utterly single or anything like that.
Regardless, seeing her so flustered put a small, satisfying smile on my face. Enjoying that tiny sense of victory, I left the convenience store.
…Only for my smug expression to vanish almost immediately.