Chapter 8 - A Masterclass in Self-Destruction

There are bad days. And then there are Pierre days.

I don't know what I did in a past life to deserve this, but it must have been horrific.

I had just wanted a peaceful night. Grab my tea, ignore Pierre's existence, pretend last night's conversation never happened. But no.

Because the moment he walked in, I could feel it. The impending stupidity.

And the worst part? He actually thought he was about to fix things.

I barely looked at him when he approached, but I could already hear it in his voice—that specific brand of male confidence that makes a man say something truly, profoundly dumb.

"Listen," he began, like he was about to make a heartfelt speech. "I feel like last night may have gotten a little… out of hand."

I said nothing. Mostly for his own protection.

"I just wanna clear things up."

Oh, this was going to be good.

Slowly—painfully slowly—I turned to face him. "Oh?"

Pierre hesitated. Good. He should.

The conversation that followed? A masterclass in self-destruction.

By the time he got to the phrase "frequently occurring evening acquaintance," I had already zoomed out of my body. The pure, Olympic-level stupidity of that sentence nearly sent me into another dimension.

Luis? Dying.

Me? Fighting the urge to commit arson.

Pierre? Drinking his iced coffee like it could save him.

I let the silence stretch. Watched him sweat. Let him marinate in his own failure.

Then, finally, I took a slow sip of my tea and met his eyes. "That was beautiful," I said, deadpan. "You should write poetry."

Luis wheezed.

Pierre looked at me like he was reconsidering every life choice that had led him to this moment.

Good.

I turned back to Luis, completely ignoring Pierre's existence. "Anyway, Luis, how's your night going?"

Luis, still wiping tears from his eyes, shook his head. "Much better than yours, man."

Pierre exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. He was losing. And he knew it.

I took another sip of my tea. It tasted like victory.

And then I made a decision.

If Pierre wanted to make my life difficult, I was going to return the favor.