Operation: Midnight Feline

Marcus crept down the hallway at 11:47 PM, moving like the actual zombie he'd become after finals week. His brain felt like it had been put through a blender, but this mission mattered more than sleep.

He was basically a cat spy at this point—well, technically he was spying on his crush's Twitch stream, but same energy. Chloe had mentioned she might go live tonight, and Marcus was NOT about to miss it. Priorities, you know?

His escape-artist cat, Luna, appeared from the shadows like she'd been waiting for him. "Not tonight, fuzzball," Marcus whispered, but Luna just blinked at him with major judgment energy and followed anyway. Traitor.

The living room was pitch black. Marcus reached behind the TV cabinet to reconnect the cable his mom had "temporarily" disconnected yesterday. Something about "studying focus." Whatever. His fingers brushed the dusty coaxial cable—finally—and he clicked it back into place.

Yes. Internet restored. Chloe's channel loaded. She was online.

Luna suddenly decided this was the perfect moment to knock over an empty soda can from three days ago. The CLATTER echoed through the house like a gunshot.

Marcus froze. His mom's door creaked open.

"Marcus?"

"Just getting water!" he called back, heart pounding. "Luna knocked something over!"

"Go back to bed. You have that project due Monday."

"Yeah, totally doing that."

Silence. Door closed.

Marcus let out the breath he'd been holding. Luna sat beside him, looking weirdly proud of herself. Whatever. He settled in to watch Chloe's stream, zombie mode fully engaged, ready to face Monday like a warrior.

Maybe he'd actually start that project. Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.