I stepped back into my mansion after two wild days crashing at Hellen's house. Was it just a sleepover? Friends did that kind of thing all the time—movie marathons, late-night talks. But for adults like us, it lingered different, especially after Hellen's accident.
Should I gift Hellen a dress? I mean, she did give me new clothes, didn't she? She even knew my sizes. And the clothes she chose for me perfect—I liked them very much.
Helly Paws news had exploded online—cheers flooding my notifications, though there were a lot of doubters nit-picking details—who were my 'anti-fans', which was surprising because I wasn't a celebrity of any sort. At best, I was a famous person. But any buzz meant momentum. Good or bad—publicity means 'publicity.' Inciting reactions from the public meant that I have to do better.
They were waiting, weren't they? Honestly, I have a lot of pressure on me. I want to prove that a barista—even without fancy degrees... can do something extraordinary.
I kicked off my shoes by the door and headed to the living room, hitting the power button on the massive TV.
A sweet song filled the air right away—smooth vocals gliding over piano keys and gentle strings, easing the tension from my shoulders like a long, warm bath after the whirlwind.
"Maybe, a good song was all I needed."
Sunlight streamed through windows, warming the floors. I slipped out of my maxi dress, letting the light fabric whisper to the ground in a soft heap.
The hoodie lounging on the leather sofa caught my eye—extra soft, baggy as ever, carrying that comforting trace of fruits from the delivery bag I'd left nearby. I tugged it on over my tank top; the sleeves flopped way past my hands, the hood brushing my cheeks.
"That underwear was as confusing as hell. Why did it have a slit? I mean, its function was to allow the penis pass through it, right?"
I wanted to talk about it with Hellen, but I finally decided against it. What if she thought that I was a weird? Besides, I have also learnt that Hellen's a dominant alpha. I can't sully my image in front of her.
"What now?" I said softly to the bright, empty room, my bare feet sinking into the thick cream rug as I paced slow circles.
Hellen had turned full mom-mode before I left—"Rest up—you look beat. You've earned it after that launch. Don't do anything until my injuries are healed."
Rest? Laughable. Excitement hummed low in my chest, ideas bursting like fireworks in the dark—new lines, colours, everything for Helly Paws.
The pull to go outside tugged hard. Streets out there sparkled in my head—bustling markets, fresh air whipping my hair. But ugly memories crashed in without warning—those hooded guys from last time, bursting from dim alleys like shadows come alive, their heavy boots pounding the pavement in sync, my own breath ragged and hot in my throat as panic clawed up.
I'd barely escaped until Lily appeared, and saved me. My unexpected hero; I had owed her coffee, or maybe a whole dinner, but after she fraternized with my enemy—I wasn't going to even talk to her. That woman was my enemy! Fucking enemy!
"Nah, let's stay inside for now. Thinking about Lily has made me angry."
I decided aloud, shaking off the chill. I dropped into the oversized armchair by the window, its cushions moulding to me perfectly.
My sketchpad waited on the cluttered coffee table—pages crinkled and smudged from countless late nights chasing visions—and I snatched it up, flipping to a fresh, white sheet that begged for life.
Pencil between my fingers, sharp point ready, I dove in—sketching pet clothes with love. Simple daily fits for park romps, fancy ones for red-carpet struts. Human fashion was a breeze; pets? They tested every stitch, claws ready to shred anything off.
"Cut right here for the tail," I breathed, tracing the slit smooth and practical, the pencil's soft scratch the only sound besides distant traffic. Cats demanded my full focus—naughty furballs with endless schemes, weaving between legs or perching on high shelves like tiny kings.
Orange ones ruled the chaos—quirky little demons, swatting glasses off kitchen tables at sunrise, pouncing phantom foes with wild abandon. Also, they were weird, and idiotic. Totally. But cute in that heart-melting way—their puffed-up strut owning every inch, whiskers twitching, eyes sharp as lasers claiming you as their human.
"Should I bring a cat home?"
I flipped the page halfway through, adding doodles of floppy-eared dogs next, then back to cat collars with bell accents. The TV song faded into chatty ads for gadgets and deals, but I tuned it out, my pad now alive with tails, ears, playful hems, and bold patterns.
After two hours, I put the sketchpad down as I pulled out my phone from my pocket. I opened 'HelloChat' and messaged Hellen.
Em: Hellen! Is your hand okay?
I waited for a few seconds before she replied.
Hellen is my partner: Yes, I am. Reached safely?
Em: I did! What are you doing?
Hellen is my partner: Was going to work on the budget...
Em: I told you to take rest! 😴😴😴
Hellen is my partner: Yes, you did. But I said that too, didn't I?
Em: My case is diff! ≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠
Hellen is my partner:Diff? U are more energetic than me.
Em: True. But I am Lazy too 🦥🦥🦥
Hellen is my partner: U... need to meditate once in a day.
Em: Boring! Look, I need to go out...
Hellen is my partner: Should I come?
Em: No! Injured! Stay!
Em: I need a plan ASAP! 🔰
Hellen is my partner: Can you type properly? I am not going to use abbreviations because of you.
Em: If U Don't Learnnn these, you will get boring 😏
Hellen is my partner: Why are you scaring me with the same word?
Em: I am a bit afraid. Last time wasn't good.
Hellen is my partner: Emily, you are an idiot, aren't you?
Em: WHATT!!😠
Hellen is my partner: Yes, you are. Did you recruit some bodyguards for you after that incident?
Em: ....
Hellen is my partner: 😏
Em: Don't use emojis on me!
Hellen is my partner: Either I will come, or you...
Em: I will recruit a bodyguard, okay?!