Adriana woke up to the unmistakable sound of something… wet. She lifted her head from her pillow just in time to see Steven, facing the door, peeing on the bedroom floor.

"Steven!" she groaned, throwing off her sheets and scrambling out of bed. The giant dog glanced over his shoulder at her, looking utterly unperturbed.
She sighed in frustration. "You bark at every. Single. Thing. Steven. But for this, you're silent? You're four years old! You're a big boy!" While she scolded him with a disappointed tone, the sentiment was also meant for herself. It's been four years. She knew better than to try to sleep in.

Steven panted, wagging his tail lazily as he waited by the door to be let out. Clearly, he was not on board. Adriana swung the door open for him, watching as he trotted out without a hint of guilt. She sighed again, headed to the hall closet, and pulled out the obnoxiously loud carpet cleaner.
With the machine roaring to life, Adriana got down on her hands and knees, scrubbing at the pee stain. As she worked, she fantasized about a life without a giant dog—sleeping in, fewer expenses, no more lint rollers…maybe even white carpets? Is this what being a parent to a wayward child felt like?

Just as she was finishing, Cara appeared in the doorway, earbuds around her neck, a big grin on her face. "Morning! Steven's fed and has been outside," she called over the noise of the machine, "he decided to keep you busy this morning?" She was tossing a piece of leftover popcorn into her mouth, looking too relaxed for someone who had just finished an hour-long K-pop dance workout, only a bright flush to her cheeks giving away her morning routine.

Turning the cleaner off, Adriana shot Cara a look of exasperation. "Yeah, he's a real joy. Very considerate," her response dripping with sarcasm.

Cara smiled fondly, not the least bit bothered by Adriana's irritation because they both knew they would do anything for the adorable bundle of love and urinary incontinence. "Before I get back to my session, can you send me that logo design? I want to take a look before I get sucked into my stuff."

"Sure," Adriana huffed, standing up and stretching her sore back, feeling stiff and arthritic, "I'll send it to you shortly."

With the carpet crisis finally under control, Adriana headed downstairs, her stomach growling. Grabbing a bagel off the counter on her way to the fridge, she didn't even bother with a plate. Reaching for the sriracha mayo, she squeezed it straight onto the bagel, and took a bite as she blindly returned the bottle, her choreographed moves revealing how common of a a meal this was. Toasting and buttering a bagel required more effort than she was willing to waste most mornings.

Leaning against the counter, lost in thought, she took another bite, barely noticing the sriracha's kick. Cooking had never been her thing, and honestly, she didn't care—food was food. If it was edible and quick, that was all she needed. As she was finishing her bagel with large bites, her phone's alarm blared from upstairs. With a sigh, she pushed herself off the counter, and trudged back up the stairs.

When she returned to her room, Steven had claimed the freshly cleaned patch of carpet, looking far too pleased with himself. She flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how to stop this from happening I should try some of those YouTube tips,she mused, though she knew she'd never follow through. Like her breakfast, Steven's behaviour was good enough for now.

Rolling onto her side with a sigh, she grabbed her phone, intending to search for a solution. As her notifications popped up, however, she got sidetracked. Her inbox was full of the usual junk: Spam about penis enhancement pills, a forwarded email chain from her grandmother titled "IMPORTANT: watch out for this new scam!", followed by multiple emails she had never intentionally signed up for, advertising sales and limited-time deals.

Adriana felt her motivation for the day sink a little lower, despite the early hour, as she opened her grandmother's email out of obligation. It felt rude to automatically delete an email from a 91-year old family member without reading it.

It was the usual scam nonsense: a prince offering millions if she'd only send over her bank details. Adriana could practically hear her grandmother gasping over the keyboard as she forwarded the email to her granddaughter. Yesterday a similar email had been sent to the entire family, but it was not from a prince. Clearly she was concerned Adriana might be susceptible to an eligible man.

She was about to respond and thank her grandmother for keeping an eye out for her when another email caught her eye:Consult Opportunity – Dr. Will Lockwood, MIT.

Her heart skipped a beat. Will Lockwood. She opened the email and quickly scanned the message. Then it clicked. He was the neuroscientist whose work she'd studied during her Master's. His research in the areas of substance use and neurobiology of sex had been groundbreaking, with one famous experiment showing how brain reward pathways during sex mirrored those in drug addiction. His work had been revered, even back then. His work had been an inspiration to her.

She hesitated for only a moment before quickly typing out a short reply. Agreeing to the work, Adriana tried to sound professional as she included her availability for the initial meeting, eager to begin the work before he changed his mind or realized he had made a mistake and meant to contact a different Adriana Quinn with a background in neuroscience. Suddenly feeling more awake and energized, Adriana pocketed her phone and headed downstairs, a bounce to her steps. Cara was in the living room, earbuds in, fully immersed in learning her latest K-pop dance. Her face was now fully flushed from exertion but her movements were sharp and she managed to look effortlessly cool. Adriana barely knew anything about K-pop, her knowledge limited to what Cara enthusiastically shared. Judging by the latest TikToks Cara had forwarded, however, Adriana would bet this dance was from that group…Stray Kiss?

"Hey," Cara said between breaths, noticing her audience and pausing her music to walk up to roommate, grinning as she grabbed Adriana's hand and wiped her face with it like a towel. "What's up? How's Steven?"

Adriana snatched her hand back, wiping her hand off on her shirt while muttering under her breath about the still smiling Cara being a giant child. But she couldn't suppress a small smile. Cara lived to push her boundaries, knowing Adriana wasn't the touchy-feely type and would lovingly call it exposure therapy when she pulled Adriana into hugs. The challenge seemed to amuse Cara, and Adriana had begrudgingly accepted that it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. They both knew that deep down, Adriana treasured those silly moments from her closest friend, and that Cara respected her limits.

Grabbing a bottle of water, Adriana took her normal spot leaning against the counter, and looking out at the living room. "Steven's in the proverbial doghouse indefinitely," she took a swig of water, and tried to sound nonchalant, "But I got an interesting email. A researcher from MIT wants me for a consult— Dr. Will Lockwood. His work is really impressive. Remember the studies I told you about with the MRI scans that compared drug use and sexual reward? That was him."

Cara's eyes lit up and she broke out into genuine smile. "Adriana, that's amazing!" she almost yelled, "This is a great opportunity! Doing something you are great at with someone that impressive? This is incredible!" She jogged over to give the reluctant Adriana a quick hug, needing to express her excitement physically. Once she released her curiously quiet friend from the one-sided hug, she grabbed herself her own water while she waited for Adriana to explain her reservations.

Adriana absentmindedly rubbed her arm in an effort to soothe her anxiety, the nerves creeping in. Her chest felt tighter and she did not notice her shoulders tense up with stress. "Honestly, I barely remember anything. I can't even name the parts of the brain without a diagram. I lucked my way through that degree." The self-doubt was thick as her voice trailed off, with clearly more examples of her incompetence racing through her thoughts.

Before Cara could respond, Adriana's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw a new email from Will Lockwood. That was fast.

The message was brief but held a confident tone that made her stand up straighter:

—-
Hi Adriana,

Appreciate the quick reply. Does an informal meeting tomorrow morning at MIT work for you? I'm interested to see where your insights can take this project.

Let's connect in person—looking forward to it,
Will
—-

Adriana stared at the screen, her pulse quickening. This was moving faster than she expected.

Excitement and nerves mingled for reasons she couldn't quite explain, leaving her hands a little shaky as she quickly typed out a reply, agreeing to the time and place.

She glanced up at Cara, who was scrolling through TikTok as she finished her water. Adriana took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in her chest.

"I guess I'm meeting him tomorrow," she said, attempting to keep her voice steady.

Cara held her gaze, both of them wishing she could impart Adriana with some of her confidence, "Of course you are. You've got this, Adriana. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Adriana nodded silently, dropping her eyes, unsure whether Cara was right or just overly optimistic. "God, I hope so," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.