When I woke up the next morning, the world was quiet. Too quiet. I mean, we had the standard chirp of the birds outside, the gurgle of my coffee pot in the kitchen, the cracks of my joints, but that was it. I put my ear up to my bedroom wall. Nothing but an empty silence on the other side. My heart hurts. I miss him. It was one slightly awkward date, Seven. It'd be nice if you'd at least answer my texts. I threw myself back on my bed, lost in my wishful thinking.

But then, realization hit. I still had work to do today. Finishing Zen's apartment was priority one. I could do that much. However, I would need help. When I called yesterday, my favorite assistant said he was busy. Fingers crossed he says yes this time around. He won't say no two days in a row, right?

"This better be life or death," a sleepy voice growled on the other end.

"Good morning, Saeran," I braced myself for whatever hell may follow.

"Oh," Saeran shook it off, sounding less pissed than he was before, "Morning, MC. Sorry about that. I thought you might have been my brother. What do you want?"

"I have a commission to finish today," I bit the inside of my cheek, silently praying for a yes, "And I was wondering if you could come work for me today."

"You mean with you?" he corrected me, "I don't work for you, MC."

"Of course," I let him have it. Whatever gets that yes for me.

"Sorry," Saeran shot me down. Dammit, "I can't. I got other shit going on today. I can't just be your errand runner at the drop of a hat, you know."

"I know," I pouted a little, "I understand. You have a life, too."

"I don't even have anyone I could send for you, MC," he apologized, "I wish I did, but like I said…"

"Other shit to do today," I let it go, "Sure. It's fine, Saeran. I can probably handle it myself."

"Alright then," Saeran sent me off, "Thanks for being so understanding."

"No problem," I sighed out, "Send your brother my love. And my concern."

"I will."

Click.

Dammit. I really thought Saeran was going to be free today. That's fine. I can handle the rest of Zen's apartment. It's not like I had very much left to do. The bedroom. The bathroom. Maybe the kitchen, if I'm feeling particularly spicy today and have the time. But here nor there. I got out of bed and jumped in the shower. It's damn near nine o'clock and I should probably get to Zen's around ten. It sucks that I won't be able to have Saeran's help (because…Well…Whether he wants to admit it or not, Saeran has quite an eye for things, too. Possibly just as good as my own. It'd be amazing to see what he could do if he was properly trained.), but I'll manage. I hope.

I filled a travel cup with black coffee in need of all the help I could get today and hightailed it to Zen's. Granted, I felt like shit, but that's what I had the coffee for. As much as I wanted to throw in a little creamer, that would dilute it too much. I'll settle for espresso later this afternoon when my ass starts to really drag. Now, to get to work.

Knock, knock.

Please be home, Zen. And awake. I don't need a repeat of what happened with Saeran.

"Morning, MC," Zen invited me in, catching me stumble over my own two feet. I don't make it a habit to swoon over my clients, but…Was Zen always this muscly…? Because, damn…This boy's solid, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," I brushed him off, trying my hardest not to swoon, "I'm fine. I'm sorry. Clumsy, I guess."

"No, no, no," he saw right through me, "Talk to me, MC. Are you ok?"

"I didn't sleep very well last night," I took a heavy drink from my coffee, indulging myself in the hug my insides needed, "But I'll be ok."

"That's no good for your skin, little lady," Zen scolded me. I'm not quite sure how I felt about the little lady comment, but if we're being honest…I think I kind of liked it, "You can't run on fumes, MC."

"Really?" I scoffed, "Watch me. I've done it a million times before and I can do it again."

"No," he put his foot down, "I'm not going to let you pour from an empty cup here. Do you have anything else going on today other than working on my apartment?"

"Not that I can think of," I ran through my day's itinerary in my head. Other than the blog post I have intentions of doing after I finish here, I had nothing, "Why?"

"Maybe," Zen offered, "You don't have to work on my apartment today."

"What do you mean?" I looked at him strange, "It's what you're paying me for, Zen. Yeah, I do."

"Not like this," he shook his head, "Take today off."

"I can't do…"

"Yes, you can," Zen cut me off, "You wouldn't want to go hang out with me today, would you?"

"Um…" If I said he didn't catch me off guard, I'd say I was lying, "I'd love to, Zen. Any other day, I'm down. But I really should be working."

"Come on, MC," he begged, taking my hand, "When was the last time someone took care of you? The last time someone treated you like the absolute princess you are?"

"I don't know," I thought it over, "Seven took me to the Rose Garden the other night."

"Without having a breakdown in the middle of it."

"It's been a while," I admitted, chewing on my bottom lip.

"Come on," Zen insisted, almost taking my permission out of it altogether, "Just you and me."

He really was going to fight me tooth and nail on this, wasn't he? "Don't you have anything else to do today?"

"Nope," Zen beamed, "I got a day off. And so do you, young lady. Why not spend it together?"

I was still pretty tired, but I thought the coffee was supposed to take care of that. It wasn't. Unfortunately. Even though I had all intentions of pushing through today, Zen had a point. I can't pour from an empty cup, "Alright, Zen. You got me. Where to first?"

"Yay!" he took my hand, "I know where I want to go, but it's a surprise for you. Besides, I'm sure my director thanks me for it anyway. Come on!"

I'm not sure who was more enthusiastic about my day off: Me or Zen. I'll take it, though. If my client wants to give me a day off, who am I to say no? Ever since yoga, Zen and I had a strange relationship. I don't know if I could call it a friendship or an acquaintanceship or something in between. We didn't know each other well enough to classify us as friends, but I've also vented my problems to him. In all terms, that's more like calling him my therapist. I'm sure if I asked him, he'd call it a friendship. And that's good enough for me. Zen was cool enough to let me ride on the back of his motorcycle, so…Isn't that called riding bitch, though? I'm not his bitch. A friendly bitch. That's something I could get on board with.

Zen pulled into the parking lot of a big, white building that I don't think I've ever noticed before. I've certainly never been here before. That's for sure. Nevertheless, I got off Zen's bike with my legs feeling like jelly. I stumbled a few steps before I could regain my equilibrium again.

Much like in his doorway this morning, Zen caught me before I could hit the ground, "You ok, MC?"

"Yeah," I nodded, secretly reveling in his embrace, "I'm good. Thank you. How are you?"

"I'm fine," he giggled a little, "Have you never ridden on the back of a motorcycle before?"

"No," I shook my head, "Can't say that I have. How do you do it?"

"Just used to it, I guess," Zen shrugged, "Do you have any idea of where we could be?"

"It looks like a temple," I pointed out, "I appreciate your concerns for my everlasting soul, but I don't think today's going to be the day I find religion."

"Trust me," he assured, "This isn't a temple. It is a way of taking care of a different temple, though."

Zen steadied me and brought me inside, sitting me in some kind of waiting room. Did this place not know what color was? Although, I could understand. Sometimes, stark white everywhere worked. It's like looking at a blank canvas. I looked over at a bronze sign hanging on the wall framed out by a couple of ferns. Wellness clinic. Oh, shit…Was this what I think it was? Because if Zen's taking me to rehab, he and I need to have a few words. I don't have a drug problem. I don't have a drinking problem. I don't have any sort of disorder. I'm perfectly fine.

"Alright, MC," Zen took my hand and pulled me up to my feet again, "We're signed in. You ready?"

"Before we go any further," I asked with a knot in my stomach, "Is this a rehab? Because I'm pretty sure that if I even had a problem, it's supposed to start with an intervention. THEN, rehab. After everyone reads all their sad letters."

"No," he wrapped his arms around me, "No, no, no, MC. I'm not leaving you in a rehab. Everything's fine. This is a wellness clinic. More of a day spa than a rehab. You're free to come and go as you please. Besides, you said you didn't sleep well last night. This will help tremendously. I promise. This has been my day off tradition for as long as I've been in my line of work. And you want to know what the best part about it is?"

"What's that, Zen?" I wondered.

With a big ass grin on his face, Zen whipped out a black card from his wallet, "It's on the company dime. They're not going to notice if I have a plus one. Or care, really. Just trust me. They know what they're doing. You just have to be there."

"A little late to say no, don't you think?" I smiled a little.

"That's the spirit!" he gave me a little pop in the shoulder, "Come on. Over here."

This shouldn't be happening. Right now, I should be neck deep in Zen's apartment, getting shit done. But what am I doing? Half zoned out in a massage chair while a facial sets. This is naughty. You should be working, MC. You should be covered in a layer of sweat and paint by now with at least three bandages on your fingers. Although…Zen did have a point. The occasional break isn't going to kill me. And if they're all like this, I might need to take more breaks. And frequently. If I wasn't already braindead this morning, this wasn't helping. Or maybe it was in ways I couldn't see. Yeah, this was naughty. But damn, did this feel good. It's too bad Zen and I were separated, though. Oh, well. Right now, I was in no position to complain.

After a brief nap and a pedicure, I could understand why Zen made this a day off priority. If I had the means of doing this every week, I totally would. No. This is the one day of treating myself (or letting Zen take care of it). Then, I go back to work and hit it full force. I am going to need caffeine, though, or I'm going to end up falling asleep again. The nap helped, though. And the facial. And the pedicure. And the massage that sent tingles all the way to my toes.

"Well?" Zen and I reconnected in the lobby, "How do you feel?"

"Incredible," I let out a heavy sigh, "Hell of an idea you had, Zen. Hell of an idea."

"See?" he threw an arm around my shoulders, "Aren't you glad I talked you into this?"

"I'm glad you weren't sending me to rehab," I giggled, "But yes. I'm glad you talked me into this. If you didn't, I probably would've fizzled out by now and I'd be napping on your bathroom floor."

"All that aside," Zen swung his leg over his bike seat, "Where to now, princess?"

"So, I'm princess now?" I wondered.

"For today, you are," he nodded, "Where would you like to go? Anywhere you want. Nothing's off the table. Except for one place, but I doubt you'd say there anyway."

"Honestly," I thought it over, "I'd love to go pick through the C&R dumpster, but…"

"Absolutely not," Zen shot me down, "I don't want to get within a hundred feet of C&R. I don't have any allergy meds on me and there's too high of a chance of running into…Anyway. No. No C&R dumpster."

"Ok," I backed off. Why did I have that feeling Zen knew the man in the ivory tower? Today's not the day to delve into that, "Actually, I'm kind of hungry. I didn't get the chance for breakfast this morning. I had my coffee and left."

"That's not good for you either, MC," he scolded me, "Fine. Lunch then?"

"Yes, please." To say I was starving would be exaggerating. But it's also not too terribly far off from the truth. I didn't eat much when I came home last night and I had yet to eat anything today. Something tells me if I were to have told Zen that, he'd yell at me like my dad again. Twice today! He's done that twice! But I understand. He's just looking out for me.

I don't know why, but for some ungodly reason, Zen took me to a vegan restaurant. I wasn't vegan by any stretch of the imagination, but I've eaten here before. Because sometimes, letting the vegan friend pick the restaurant pays off. She was the same friend that took me to yoga for the first time. It's weird. We came here after that yoga class and she thought she'd convert me. Turns out yoga wasn't her thing and veganism wasn't mine. We completed each other.

All in all, though, despite having my sad moment this morning and Saeran bailing on me, today has only gotten better. All because Zen asked me to come out and play. And to take a day off. I got halfway through my French fries (that were weirdly baked instead of deep fried. I'm not sure how to feel about that. I know everything on the menu here was supposed to be relatively healthy, but dammit, sometimes a bitch wants something soaked in grease that's going to make her heart stop) and couldn't keep the smile off my face. Of course, that couldn't go unnoticed.

"You doing alright, MC?" Zen wondered, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were in higher spirits."

"I'm fine," I assured, taking a good, heavy sip from my green tea, "Hey, Zen?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," I spoke softly, "For today. I didn't know how badly I needed it."

"You're welcome," Zen smiled back, taking my hand, "It was my pleasure. Do you think you'd ever maybe want to do it again?"

"Maybe one day," I admitted, "But not for a while yet. I've got too much shit to do back at your place."

"Well then," he decided, "We should finish up here and go back to my place, yeah?"

"Definitely," I grabbed my tea and the two of us headed back to Zen's apartment. Even though it had gotten late in the afternoon, I could manage to get something done, so I could sleep tonight. Hopefully better than last night. The sidebar of the day was nice, but I still had a job to do.

When we got back, I walked straight into the easiest room I could do for today. Zen's bedroom was strangely simple for someone like Zen. A bed. A dresser. A full length mirror. A closet. Nothing too terribly exciting. I would've thought he'd have some skeletons in this particular closet, but I'm pleasantly disappointed. I've gone into projects where I walk into the bedroom and there's a sex swing hanging from the ceiling. Weirdest project I've ever done.

I shook off that disturbing memory and got back to work. The last time I did a bedroom was…My own! Because when I did Seven's office, I didn't get to touch the bedroom. It had been mostly file storage and I wasn't allowed to go through them. That was for Vanderwood to take care of. I liked doing my bedroom. Out of the little projects in my apartment, my office and my bedroom were my favorite. Especially when it came to the pictures. Speaking of weird experiences. I looked down at Zen's bed, having a flashback that simultaneously melted and broke my heart.

"MC?" Zen gave me a little nudge, "You ok?"

"Yeah," I shook it off, forcing a smile on my face "When I was doing my bedroom, Seven thought it'd be funny to steal some of my pajamas and pose on my bed like the sultry vixen he was trying to be."

"I told you that guy was nuts!" he gasped, "MC, you shouldn't have had to deal with that!"

"I thought it was cute," I giggled to myself, only to be overcome with a wave of melancholy, "I miss him."

"You haven't heard from him?"

"Not since the other morning," I told him, "Usually, he'll either stop by or send me a text or at least let me know he's alive in some way. Hell, I've talked to Saeran more in the last few days than I have Seven."

"And Saeran doesn't talk to anybody," Zen teased, "Give him a minute, MC. He'll come back around. Eventually. Seven just needs to go back to the mothership and recharge."

"You really have been a help, Zen," I sat at the edge of his bed, checking for anything else I can do. The bedding's changed from something that looked like it belonged in a hotel (or a furnace, if I had my way) to something that suited this room a hell of a lot better. The pillows are overabundant and artfully shoved in the corner of the bed. The dresser had a few added knickknacks from the living room on it (that weren't just Zen's mail stacked up). I think I could call this done.

"So have you," he sat next to me, "Thank you, MC. I'm glad you did this for me."

"Anytime," I pulled myself together, "As far as payment is concerned…"

"How much do you want from me?" Zen got up and grabbed his wallet out of his jacket pocket, cringing at the tumbleweeds coming out of it, "And when…? Because I don't think I can get you anything quite yet."

"Just kick me some money when you can," I allowed, "That's no problem."

"Bless you," he hugged me tight, "You truly are a princess, MC. And I mean that in the most loving way possible. Are you sure we can do today again?"

"I'm hoping so," I insisted, "Anytime you want. Within reason."

"Does that mean I can call you, too?"

"Of course," I nodded, "You do have my number."

"That I do!"

"It's getting late," I pointed out, "I'm going to head home."

"Alright," Zen walked me to the door, "Good night, MC."

"Night," I waved behind me and drove back to my building. Home sweet home. A place where I can kick my shoes off, hang my nonexistent hat, and pull my bra off through my shirt sleeve. Now, I could upload all the pictures I took from Zen's apartment and get to work on that blog post.

No, MC. You're done for the night. You're going to put your feet up on the coffee table and possibly watch some shitty mindless TV. Although, I wasn't in the mood for shitty mindless TV. I picked my phone up from the coffee table and scrolled through my contacts, giving serious consideration to calling Seven. Who knows if he'd even pick up? We were practically foreign concepts to each other the other morning. I didn't think he'd be so weirded out by that. All I did was show him basic human kindness and it made him want to crawl back into his hole. What am I going to do with you, Seven? Right now, I just want to know you're ok.

There's not a soul out there…

No one to hear my prayer…

What the hell…? I checked my phone and my laptop and not a single one of them were making a peep. Then again, I don't remember downloading any ABBA recently.

Gimme, gimme, gimme

A man after midnight.

Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away…

Looks like someone's in the office. It's weird how what once infuriated me to no end is the one thing that could set my mind at ease. Didn't expect it to be ABBA, but I don't care. I'll take it. Who knows? I might actually get some damn sleep tonight. All because of the music on the other side of the wall. If there's ABBA bumping next door, then chances are, Seven's home, right? And if he can do it, I can do it. I pushed myself off my couch and walked next door.

Knock, knock.

I'll just be happy if this door opens. Sure enough, a little squeak came from the hinges. You know, Seven, if you have the place remodeled, the least your designer could do is WD-40 your door. Or we'll just save that for the building manager. That'll work, too. Going by the look on your face, though, I just caught a deer in my headlights, "MC…Hi. Music too loud?"

"No," I let it slide. For now, "Hi, Seven."

"What brings you over at this ungodly hour?" he wondered.

I needed an excuse. And I needed one now. I could bitch about the music being too loud, but I missed it too much. Then, brilliance struck, "I wanted to tell you I finished a job."

"That's good," Seven leaned against the doorframe, "That feels like something you could've said in a text, but it's nice to see your face once in a while, too."

"Ditto," I agreed, "But I don't think you understand. I finished a job today."

"Yes," he nodded, still not quite following me, "And we're all very proud of you, MC. Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have work to do."

"Wait, Seven," I put my foot in his door. My bare foot. That might have not been a good idea on MC's part, but that's for her to deal with later. I don't feel pain. I don't feel pain. I don't feel pain. Quickly, I pulled myself together, "I finished a job. Let's go get pancakes."

A little smile crept across his face. Going by all the other emotions this boy has shown since I showed up on his door, I didn't expect that. It's a delightful change of pace, "You want to go get pancakes? MC, it's one in the morning."

"I know."

Seven got quiet. I don't like when Seven gets quiet. Because that means Seven's about to bolt for the bathroom again to call Saeran to talk him down from the ledge. But that smile stayed on his face, "What kind of lunatic would bang on someone's door at one o'clock in the morning for pancakes?"

"My favorite lunatic," I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back a smile of my own, "The kind that blasts ABBA when I'm trying to sleep and accidentally takes me to porn theaters downtown."

"Let me grab my shoes."