"Warranty?" Danny asked, throwing his final shirt in the washer and turning to Dev. "Well<span style="font-style: italic">mannaggia</span>, I know what a warranty is." Danny hated the idea of sounding or looking stupid, quickly correcting his verbal mistake. He simply didn't pay attention to papers, warranties, or anything else involving reading or listening to other people talk for far too long. He just signed under the dotted line, paid whatever money he needed to put on the table, and left. "Just look at it, then."<br/><br/>The house was getting loud, as it seemed everyone planned to be up early. Not much of a surprise, since it was Monday. There were only two faces Danny hadn't seen so far. He seemed not to care, but the people of the house had become such common background to him that it was often a surprise when one wasn't there as he expected; much like if the living room sofa was thrown out back.<br/><br/>Danny felt somewhat out of place in the house at times, but it was a better alternative to his car. Janice was surprisingly resourceful to hold the place together as well as she did. He wouldn't consider them friends, but she gave him a place to stay.<br/><br/>Not that he considered anyone his friend. They were either against him, or a face that came up from time to time.<br/><br/>Danny pressed his finger to his ear in annoyance as Morgan entered with earbuds in, shouting. She was always listening to loud music, every so often sharing it with the rest of the household, much to Danny's frustration. He didn't like anything but opera, and he kept that to himself so as not to bother others.<br/><br/>Thinking quickly if he needed anything from the store, Danny decided not. Most of the things he used were communal, like toilet paper or peanut butter. He didn't have many belongings in his vomit-inducing pink room besides his chest-of-drawers and clothes, and desk and art supplies.<br/><br/>Recently he had been looking through his older sketchbooks in frustration, trying to find inspiration from his previous works. His temptation to burn all of them and just quit altogether had been growing over the past weeks. He hated that every time he put his pencil on the page, he felt like he hated himself. But he couldn't stop, because if he didn't produce art, he didn't have any other options. Hell, he had barely passed through high school.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Maybe I could try watercolour,</span>Danny thought. It wasn't a grocery store item, but it wouldn't be too far out of the way to get. Relutantly he walked over to the list and scribbled it down. His writing had always been terrible, resulting in poor marks in school when his teachers could barely decipher what he had put down, but he made an effort in the moment to make it more legible than usual. He added a 20$ to the pot started by Janice, not bothering to add a disclaimer like she had. With 20$ the watercolours would be cheap, but he wasn't expecting greatness.<br/><br/>Danny grabbed the breakfast Janice had made. He wasn't so prideful to not eat what she made.<br/><br/>As he finished his plate, he looked up at the clock. He still had some time to waste before heading to work. He had gotten rid of his car and instead had started biking, in an effort to retain the smallest bit of healthiness, and cut down on costs. His fingers drummed against the table as he began craving a smoke.