After a long and eventful night of cleaning, James finally heads home. He’s exhausted; the sun is beginning to rise and he’s long overdue for some sleep. He stops by the liquor store on the way home as well as a takeout place, and then arrives to his apartment. As soon as he opens the door he takes out a bottle of whiskey and has a swig, eating a sub with he other hand as he tries to also unzip his coveralls. They plop on the floor, Cory still inside, and James makes his way to his shower— whiskey and sandwich in tow.
Cory is left in the dark, both figuratively and literally. Had James really forgotten about him? He’d dozed off inside the warm pocket after a few hours, but was just now so rudely awakened by what seemed to be a drop to the floor. Clearly he’s still inside the jumpsuit, so he assumes James has stepped out of it, leaving Cory inside.
An inscrutable amount of time passes with the Cory skin patty left in the pocket, on the floor. He finally hears a door open and someone seemingly stumble out.
James yawns. He’s drunk, he’s full, and he’s sleepy. He spots his work clothes bunched up on the floor next to his knocked over boots and rolls his eyes. He scoops it up and tosses it into the full washer, with soap flakes already prepped. Then he slams it shut and sets it to a heavy duty wash and flops down onto the couch.
Cory barely has time to scream for his new ‘friend’. Suddenly there’s the sound of rushing water, and much fainter, some dull snores from not too far away.