It wasn't long before the mansion came into view. The sleek exterior stood tall in the darkness, lights from the inside glowing warmly through the windows.
Ethan slowed his bike as he approached the driveway, pulling into the garage and parking it neatly in place.
He removed his helmet, ran a hand through his slightly messy hair, and finally stepped inside.
Only to be greeted by the exact scene he had expected.
Vanessa.
Sprawled on the couch like she had no care in the world, legs stretched out lazily over the armrest, remote in one hand and a half-finished juice box in the other.
A juice box.
Ethan's eyes flickered to the coffee table in front of her, where two — no, three — empty small cartons of juice were stacked on top of each other.
"…Are you serious?"