Ella sat at the dining table, her laptop open, fingers gliding across the keyboard as she edited a new logo design for a client. The dim glow of her desk lamp cast a warm hue over her workspace, illuminating the sleek lines of her design. She was deep in concentration, fine-tuning the color gradients, when the doorbell rang.
She frowned, turning toward the door with irritation.
"Who's it?" she called out, already feeling the annoyance creep in.
No response.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," she muttered under her breath, pushing back her chair. "Who could this be at this hour when I'm freaking busy?"
Still grumbling, she walked toward the door, dragging her feet slightly. As she pulled it open, she barely had time to react before an overly enthusiastic voice pierced through the air.
"Heyyy, baby girl!"
Before Ella could register anything, Trisha flung herself at her, arms outstretched for a hug. Ella instinctively turned to the side, dodging the embrace.
"WTF, Trish!" Ella groaned, heading back toward her workspace. "You could've called before barging in like this, crazy."
Trisha pouted dramatically before sauntering inside, closing the door behind her. She pulled out a chair near the window, crossing her legs casually.
"That's why you won't even hug me, huh? Silly girl."
Ella barely looked up, her fingers continuing to fly over the keyboard. "It's been ages, so I figured I'd surprise you," Trisha added, leaning forward on the table.
Ella exhaled, still typing but half-listening. "I know, Trish. But I've been really, really busy. You know how it is—girl's gotta make some cash." She winked, trying to soften her bluntness.
Trisha rested her chin on her palm and sighed. "Ella Brown."
Ella's hands immediately paused, her eyes narrowing. "Whenever you call my full name, you're about to talk rubbish, and I'm not in the mood."
They both chuckled, but Trisha's expression grew more serious. "No, but for real, don't you think you're being overly independent?"
That made Ella stop completely. She turned to her friend, brows raised in disbelief. "What the actual fuck are you saying, Trish? I'm being overly independent?"
Trisha didn't back down. "Yeah."
Ella scoffed, pushing her laptop slightly forward. "Girl, I'm literally the first child in my family. I grew up without a father, and I have four younger siblings looking up to me. And you're telling me I'm overly independent? WTF am I supposed to do—go clubbing and shake my butt when I have responsibilities?"
She hissed, shaking her head as she turned back to her screen. "Mtcheew."
Trisha folded her arms. "Ella…"
Ella cut her off immediately. "Don't 'Ella' me. Will you take up my responsibilities?"
Trisha laughed, shaking her head. "Of course not."
"Exactly. So let me be."
Trisha leaned forward. "Listen, Ella, I'm not saying you shouldn't work. What I'm trying to say is that you should explore life more. Everything about you is work, work, work. Change your routine, go places, have fun."
Ella rolled her eyes. "Work is fun to me. That's on period." She shot Trisha a look, smirking. "And as you can see, I'm busy, so…"
Trisha held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, fine. Stubborn girl."
Her gaze drifted toward the window as she absentmindedly pulled at the hem of her sweater. Ella was about to refocus on her design when she noticed Trisha staring outside, eyes locked on something—or someone.
Following her gaze, Ella's stomach turned.
There he was. Benjackson Troy.
Her neighbor. The guy she loathed for reasons she could hardly explain.
Troy was making his way into his house, dressed in a casual black hoodie and ripped jeans. His dark, messy hair fell effortlessly over his forehead, and he carried himself with an air of confidence that irritated Ella to her core.
Trisha, on the other hand, looked mesmerized.
Ella's patience snapped. "Trisha! Trisha!"
Trisha startled. "Yes?"
Ella gave her a deadpan stare. "Why are you looking at him like that?"
Trisha bit her lip before sighing dreamily. "Damn, girl. That nigga is fine as hell."
Ella snorted. "Wait, wait, wait. You're licking your lips over a guy? That's a new low for you."
Trisha ignored her, still staring. "I don't get why you hate him so much. He's rich, he's talented, and he's cute like a demon."
Ella raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever seen a demon before?"
Trisha chuckled. "You know what I mean."
Ella shook her head. "No, I don't. And I don't need to. That man is a walking red flag, and there's no difference between him and my vomits."
Trisha gasped dramatically. "Ella! You're being mean."
Ella shrugged. "I'm being honest. That one will give you premium headache, premium heartbreak, and i don't have the energy for it."
Trisha sighed. "Come on, all men aren't the same. I know you've been through a lot of heartbreaks, and I get that it's made you guarded, but it's time to let that go. It's high time you gave a relationship a try."
Ella groaned. "You see? This is why I say you talk rubbish all the time. And it always seems like I'm insulting you, but I promise you—I'm not. It's just the truth."
Trisha laughed.
"Okay, even if I want to give love a chance, are you expecting me to settle for someone cheap?"Ella smirked. "Of course not."
Trisha huffed. "Ella, this guy is handsome. Stop forming hard to get and shoot your shot."
Ella gasped in mock horror. "WTF, Trish? Are you crazy? I don't even like that guy! I don't care how rich or talented he is. He's a celebrity. An artist, for God's sake! Do you know how many girls would want him? That's a pure red flag to me, premium red flag.And I don't wanna be in any relationship, I need to be focused."
Trisha groaned. "Ella!"
Ella shut her laptop. "No more talks, Trish. I'm done. Now check this logo out for me."
Trisha pouted but leaned forward to inspect the screen. Her expression softened. "Damn, it's perfect. Workaholic babes."
Ella smirked. "Glad you finally acknowledge my genius."
Trisha suddenly sat up. "So… what's in this big house for lunch? I'm starving."
Ella waved toward the kitchen. "Go knock yourself out."
Trisha got up, stretching her arms. "I know my way around. You don't gotta point."
Ella chuckled, shaking her head. "Of course you do."
Trisha winked. "That's why I'm your best friend."
And with that, she strutted toward the kitchen, leaving Ella behind to shake her head fondly.
It was always like this with Trisha—chaotic, dramatic, but oddly comforting.
Even if she was insufferable sometimes.
Ella sighed, rubbing her temples before turning back to her screen.
Work was waiting.