3:33pm. Miami. Drake skips around his garden while on the phone. “Okay, and what time do you need me to be there?” Drake asks his florist.
“They’re selling out fast,” the florist replies. “You better get here ASAP.”
Drake stops skipping. “What the heck did you just call me?”
11am in Hollywood. A frown crinkles Drake’s forehead before he lets out a big sigh. He puts his phone down and stares at the ceiling.
“Guess you can’t even trust yourself anymore,” he mutters.
9pm. Toronto. As Drake settles down to watch Netflix, "This story is based on true events" flashes up on his television screen. Drake closes his eyes, smiles, and takes a deep breath.
"Good," he whispers. "I'm tired of being lied to."
May 30th. Drake sits in a chair in the corner of a dark room, another sleepless night looming. His phone is the only source of light in the room, illuminating the tears slowly rolling down each cheek.
“I can explain this...” he whispers to himself while pulling up the notes app.
After playing Fortnite for 3 hours straight, Drake says goodbye to Ninja and turns off his PlayStation, carefully setting down his headset on the desk. Silence fills his house as he sits in darkness, looking around his bedroom.
"Huh," he grunts. "My very own Lonely Lodge."