Genome parties were always fun, but the aftermath sucked.

When he returned home to Jamie’s place, Ryan found it in ruins. The floor had been buried underneath beer bottles, pizza boxes, trash, and stuff best left forgotten. Someone had drenched the sofa in a suspicious fluid, and while DJ Brain had survived the apocalypse, a partygoer drew a smiley face on the vat’s surface. Even with repeated time-stop, it was a struggle to clean up the mess.

Ryan was still working on it by the evening.

“Faster, slave!” Ryan’s cruel taskmaster, Lanka, sat on a chair while he cleaned up the sofa with a mop. Ki-jung’s rats looked at the both of them, like viewers watching a comedy movie. “I want to see this sofa shine enough to sit my ass upon.”

“Do you want me to clean your royal butt too while I’m at it, Your Majesty?” Ryan deadpanned.

“No, thank you, I already did my part,” she replied. “You’re the one who skipped town all morning.”

“You’re just mad I was invited to the big guys’ table,” he mocked her back, before hearing his cellphone bleep in his pocket. He took a break from his dirty work to check a message from Jasmine.

JasLove: How do you want your armor?