#Chapter 182: You’re Cut Off

It’s late at night. Despite that Arthur and I somehow managed to master precisely three sleeping positions for maximum comfort, we can’t fall asleep.

You’d think we’d be more excited that our situation seems to be changing, and don’t get me wrong I can’t wait to sleep in a king-sized bed again, but in a way, we’ve fallen into a rhythm. Oddly, even the drudgery of life can become a comfort.

“How do you feel about becoming a famous artist?” Arthur asks, stroking my hair. I laugh because even still that idea seems completely ridiculous, even with the opportunity only one good sale away.

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