I wake up to the annoying sound of my alarm clock blaring, and in my half asleep state, I toss my alarm clock out my open window.

"Oh hell," I say, realizing my idiocy. "Guess I'm buying a new alarm clock after work today."

I roll my eyes and make my way into my bathroom for a quick shower and I quickly get myself ready for a long, boring day of answering phone calls and taking messages.

The ever enjoyable work of a receptionist.

I make my way towards the bus stop, choosing to ignore the crushed remains of my alarm clock on the sidewalk.

As I sit down on the familiar bench, my phone begins to ring. When I see the name on the Caller ID, I decide to ignore it. Whatever he's calling about, it can't be good.

But to my dismay and annoyance, he immediately calls me again. And again. And again.

I sigh loudly as the other people waiting for the bus are now giving me judging looks.

I finally answer my phone and snap "What?" into the phone as soon as I do.

"I need your help," Namjoon whines.

"I am busy, Namjoon. I have to work," I explain impatiently. He knows this. I don't know what in the world he does during the week, but whatever it is, I'm sure it's something weird and far from something a normal adult does.

"This is important. Way more important than work," he says urgently.

"I highly doubt that. It's more important than me being able to pay my bills and continue to have a roof over my head? Do you want me to be homeless, Namjoon?"

"Kinda dramatic," he grumbles.

"I have a feeling that whatever you need my help for so badly is nowhere near as important as you're making it out to be, dimples," I say, standing up when the bus comes to a squeaking stop in front of the bench. "I have to go. Don't call me again unless you're dying."

"Isla-" He starts but I hang up. No nonsense today, dimples. I have to be a normal adult and do normal things even though my not-so-normal friend is continuously calling me again.

I groan and switch my phone off. Nope.

My work day is very uneventful, thankfully. Usually, I spill at least three people's coffees and it's usually on myself. People learned a long time ago not to ask me to get them their coffee because it never ends well.

At 5 PM, I grab my things and rush out of the office, hoping that I'll make it in time to catch the next bus. If not, I have to wait around for an hour for the next one or I'll have to walk. And this lazy bitch is not walking all the way home.

Thankfully, I make it just in time even though I broke one of my heels on the way to the bus stop. After sitting down on the packed bus, I pull my phone out of my purse and turn it back on. Immediately, my phone is vibrating constantly as it fills with missed calls, voicemails and texts from Namjoon.

All of the messages are the same: Please help me. I'm going to die.

My heart skips a beat, thinking the worst has happened to him and he's in a ditch somewhere with a broken neck or something.

I dial Namjoon's number and he picks up after only one ring.

"Isla!" he yells frantically. "It's getting out of hand! Please help me!"

"Where are you?" I say nervously. "What happened?"

"My apartment. Please hurry. I don't think I can do this anymore!"

Namjoon hangs up and I gulp nervously. I get off at the next bus stop and quickly make my way to Namjoon's apartment, picturing every possible thing that could be happening to this clumsy ass man right now.

I knock on his door frantically, mind now in overdrive as I feel myself being truly worried for my new friend. He opens the door, panting and sweating. "Thank goodness you're here! I don't know what to do!"

"Are you okay?" I say, grabbing his shoulders and looking him up and down to check for injuries.

"I am far from okay," he says, wiping his sweaty forehead with his forearm.

"What's going on?" I ask, frowning in confusion.

"Come," he instructs.

"Uh... okay," I say, closing his door behind me before following him to the bathroom.

Wordlessly, he points to his new toilet.

I stare at the toilet and then turn my confused gaze to Namjoon.

"What about it?" I say, bewildered.

"I don't know how to work it!" he exclaims and I nearly bash his head against the toilet right then and there.

"You've been blowing my phone up and making me worried half to death because you don't know how to use your new toilet?!" I yell, smacking him in the side of the head with my purse.

"It won't open and I've had to pee all day!" he groans, doing a potty dance. "There's some kind of lock on the lid!"

I glance over at the toilet again and see a childproof lock on the lid.

"Why's that even on there? Did they think you had a child?" I ask.

"I don't know, Isla! Everyone on this floor got new toilets and I'm guessing this toilet was meant for someone with children. Please open it before I pee on the floor!"

"You've really just been holding in your pee and trying to open this childproof lock all day?" I ask, holding back my laughter.

"I'm gonna peeeeeee!" he screams while holding his crotch and I hurriedly open the lock for him and run into the living room so I'm far from the impact zone.

Five minutes later, I'm standing in his living room with my arms crossed and my foot tapping furiously.

"What in the world are you doing in there?" I yell and Namjoon slowly opens the bathroom door and comes into the living room looking guilty and confused.

"Oh great. What now?" I groan.

"Um... I don't know how to flush it..."

I stare at him with a blank look. I cannot put into words how done I am with this man child.

"I'm beginning to think that they put the childproof lock on your toilet because they thought that you were a child," I say before turning around and leaving his apartment.

I'm so over today. I need sleep. And now I'll have to use my phone's alarm clock since I forgot to get a new one.

"Wait! I really don't know how to flush it!" He yells after me as I awkwardly walk down the hallway away from him with one broken shoe.