I woke up a few weeks later in the hospital that I, ironically, designed. In hindsight and use, this place was not functional but looks amazing. This is alright, I thought as I pushed through the other lost people clamoring about in my room, vomiting in corners.

It was refreshing waking up anew, if you will. I decided this would be an opportune time to kickstart my life or “life 2.0” as apparently I had been legally dead for 2 hours during my hospital stint. I knew I could accomplish anything I set my mind to, and this would be an excellent time for me to give my old job a new try. Unsure if I still retained my position, I returned to the streets to find a potential client.

After a few hours of sitting on a curb, I overheard someone in dire need of my help. When I say dire, I mean needed me as no one has ever needed me before.

This person, this perfect new client of mine, was definitely and irrevocably a refugee in disguise as a city mouse. I immediately handled the situation post haste. The company car was nearby, and, to my luck, the keys were in the ignition. I had never been allowed the company car before, but I was sure Nook would understand the situation and even probably give me my job back. I threw the client in the car and floored it to the nearest subdivision.

After the screaming subsided, I finally began to get the client to give me some background info. Rizzo, as this creature was called, was interested in a one bedroom hideout. I assumed since he (basically) approached me for the project, he wanted this hideout to have a certain flair also, but of course this was purely speculative. Sometimes speculative is all you need.

I managed to get Rizzo to decide on a nice little frozen island in the middle of nowhere.

Not my first pick, but after having hundreds of clients, I’ve noticed that this kind of work isn’t purely about what I want. We decided on a boring exterior not even worth mentioning before continuing to the interior of the space.

Rizzo apparently hates good design as he mandated that a futon be integrated into the space. I hated Rizzo for this, and decided that I would take no other consideration from this awful person for the duration of this project. After 17 hours of sulking and forcing Rizzo to hang up on 911 operators, we arrived at this end product.

Rizzo’s new space not only surpasses the lowly goal of being a hideout but does it while making a bold step forward for interior architecture. By incorporating elements of old (like the stove) with modern touches like the minimal furniture and shitty futon, the space transcends the necessary requirements of a hideout entirely. I’d learned a lot from this client, and it showed.

Upon returning the company car, I was greeted by an officer of the law. Knowing the charges against me were false, I continued to relish in my newly acquired optimism. I had started anew, and even used my power for good. This is a pretty good day.