Midnight Situation

Victor's alarm buzzed early on Friday morning, signaling the start of another payday.

He reached for his phone, swiping through notifications until he found the one he was looking for—his weekly paycheck had been credited to his bank account. The sight of $750 brought a small but significant sense of relief.

With a deep breath, Victor began his usual routine. He grabbed his laptop and logged into his bank account, transferring money to cover his rent and calculating his monthly bills. After setting aside funds for utilities, his phone bill, and other essentials, he could see his available balance dwindling.

"Alright, time for groceries," he muttered, determined to make the most of his remaining funds. He allocated a budget for his weekly grocery run and then headed out the door, making his way to the local supermarket.

Victor lived in a modest apartment building in the heart of Eqidux, a bustling city that had grown and modernized over the centuries since the Sages' war.

The neighborhood was a mix of old and new—quaint, family-owned shops nestled between modern buildings. The streets were lined with trees, and the air buzzed with the energy of city life.

Victor's building itself was an old brick structure with ivy creeping up its sides, giving it a timeless charm. The apartments were small but cozy, and Victor had come to appreciate the sense of community among the residents.

After completing his grocery shopping and carefully sticking to his budget, Victor returned home, his arms loaded with bags. As he approached his building, he noticed his elderly neighbor, Mrs. Hilda Thompson, struggling to lift a heavy box from her car.

Mrs. Thompson was a kind-hearted woman in her late seventies, with a shock of white hair and a gentle smile. She had lived in the neighborhood for as long as Victor could remember, always offering a friendly word or a piece of advice to those around her.

"Mrs. Thompson, let me help you with that," Victor called out, setting his grocery bags down and hurrying over.

"Oh, Victor, you're such a dear," Mrs. Thompson replied, looking relieved. "I've been trying to get this box inside for ages. My back isn't what it used to be."

Victor knew he had to be careful not to reveal his supernatural abilities, but he also didn't want to see Mrs. Thompson struggle.

He discreetly reached into his pocket and touched the dragon compass he had created, feeling a surge of strength flow through him.

"Don't worry, I've got it," Victor said, lifting the box with ease and carrying it toward her apartment.

Mrs. Thompson's eyes widened. "My, you're stronger than you look! Thank you so much, Victor."

"It's no trouble at all," Victor said, smiling as he set the box down inside her door.

They shared a brief but heartwarming conversation. Mrs. Thompson talked about the neighborhood, reminiscing about the old days and sharing stories of her late husband. Victor listened attentively, enjoying the warmth of her company.

"You're such a good young man," Mrs. Thompson said, patting his arm. "I don't know what we'd do without you around here."

Victor felt a surge of gratitude. "It's my pleasure, Mrs. Thompson. If you ever need anything, just let me know."

Before he left, Mrs. Thompson reached into a bowl on her counter and handed him a shiny red apple. "Here, take this. It's not much, but it's a small token of my thanks."

Victor accepted the apple with a smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Thompson. I appreciate it."

As he walked back to his apartment, he felt a sense of fulfillment.

Back in his apartment, Victor put away his groceries and sat down to add the remaining $50 to his savings account. It wasn't much, but every little bit helped. He knew he had to be frugal, especially with his unpredictable financial situation.

Victor flopped down on his couch, feeling the weight of his financial burdens pressing down on him. He stared at the ceiling, his mind wandering to his precarious situation.

"$50 left until next week," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "I really hope things change soon. I can't keep living like this."

The thought of his manuscript with Crescent Moon Publishing brought a glimmer of hope, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off his worries, if only for a little while.

Victor reached for the remote and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels absentmindedly.

The usual assortment of news, talk shows, and reruns didn't catch his interest until he landed on an entertainment channel. His eyes widened as he recognized the familiar face of his celebrity crush, Jennifer Bopson.

Jennifer Bopson was performing on a brightly lit stage, her powerful voice captivating the audience. She wore a stunning, form-fitting dress that accentuated her curves, and her confidence radiated through the screen.

Victor's troubles seemed to melt away as he watched her, completely entranced.

"Wow," he whispered, his eyes glued to the screen.

Jennifer moved with grace and poise. Her beauty and talent were undeniable. Victor's thoughts drifted into a fantasy, imagining himself on that stage with her, the lights shining down, the crowd cheering.

His imagination took over, painting a vivid picture of them together. He pictured Jennifer smiling at him, their hands touching, her eyes sparkling with interest.

The fantasy grew more detailed, and Victor couldn't help but indulge in it, forgetting his real-world problems for a few blissful moments.

Victor's heart raced as he imagined being close to her, her perfume filling the air, her laughter ringing in his ears.

He fantasized about romantic dinners, passionate nights, and shared dreams. The thought of being with someone so glamorous and talented was intoxicating, even if it was just a daydream.

The performance ended, and Jennifer blew a kiss to the camera, sending Victor's heart into a flutter. The show cut to a commercial, and reality slowly seeped back in, but Victor still felt the lingering effects of his fantasy.

"Maybe one day," he sighed, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "A guy can dream, right?"

He turned off the TV and stretched, feeling a little lighter despite his earlier lamentations.

Victor stood up and walked over to his desk, his thoughts returning to his manuscript and the possibilities it held.

Daydreaming of Jennifer had reminded him that dreams, no matter how far-fetched, were worth pursuing. And while he might not end up with a celebrity crush, he could still strive for a better future through his writing and his unique abilities.

---

The clock struck midnight, and the apartment was cloaked in a peaceful silence. But that peace was shattered by a sudden, heavy noise followed by the sound of a woman screaming.

"Thief! Help! Someone help!" the voice cried out, piercing the night.

Victor jolted awake, heart pounding. He quickly grabbed his phone and dialed 911, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher. The screams continued, growing more frantic and desperate.

"Please hurry," Victor urged, ending the call. Without wasting another second, he reached for the Orb of Eternity, its glow providing a reassuring light in the darkness. He knew he had to act fast.

Gripping the orb tightly, Victor dashed out of his apartment and into the hallway, following the sounds of distress.

He reached the source of the commotion—a neighboring apartment where Amanda, a single mother of one, lived. Amanda was a striking woman in her early thirties, with long, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She stood in the hallway, wearing a silky nightgown that clung to her curves. Her face was a mix of fear and anger.

"He stole my purse and my jewelry!" Amanda shouted, pointing towards a masked figure sprinting down the hallway.

Victor's adrenaline surged. He concentrated on the orb, willing it to slow down time around the fleeing thief. The orb glowed brighter, and Victor felt the familiar power surge through him. The thief's movements became sluggish, as if he were moving through molasses.

With the thief momentarily incapacitated, Victor ran towards him and snatched the stolen items from his grasp. The thief, still under the orb's influence, stumbled awkwardly, trying to regain his balance.

But Victor's own momentum got the best of him. As he turned to return Amanda's belongings, he tripped over a loose floorboard, sending himself and the thief tumbling to the ground. The orb slipped from his hand, and time resumed its normal flow.

The scene turned comic as the thief, trying to stand up, bumped into a potted plant, which toppled over and crashed into a fire extinguisher. The extinguisher fell and discharged foam everywhere, causing the thief to slip and slide uncontrollably.

Victor, struggling to get up, was hit by a stray burst of foam, making him slip again and collide with the thief. The two of them ended up in a tangled heap on the floor, covered in foam and surrounded by the remnants of the chaos they had caused.

Amanda rushed over, her nightgown fluttering around her. "Are you okay, Victor?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern.

Victor managed a sheepish grin, wiping foam from his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit of a mess."

The thief groaned, attempting to crawl away, but Victor grabbed his ankle and pulled him back. "You're not going anywhere," he said, more confidently this time.

The sounds of sirens grew louder, and moments later, the police arrived. They quickly apprehended the thief, who continued to struggle ineffectively against his captors. One of the officers helped Victor to his feet, while another retrieved the stolen items from the floor.

Amanda threw her arms around Victor, hugging him tightly. "Thank you so much, Victor! I don't know what I would have done without you."

Victor blushed, awkwardly returning the hug as he felt two soft lumps pushing against him through her fabric. "It was nothing, really. I'm just glad you're okay."