The rain had already stopped by the time I dragged myself up the stairs and shoved my door open.
Miso bolted toward me, wagging her tail so hard her whole butt giggled.
She nearly knocked me over before I dropped my bag on the chair and squatted down to pet her.
"Okay, okay, calm down, I'm not dead," I muttered, letting her lick my chin. "Though honestly? Give it a week and we might both be on the streets."
The apartment smelled faintly like the overpriced candle I'd panic-bought last week because it was labeled 'Rich Auntie Energy.'
I caught my reflection in the side mirror.
Ginger hair plastered damp to my forehead, pale skin looking even paler under the lighting, and eyes so blue they could pass for fake contacts. The kind of face people called striking. I made a face at myself. Cute, but messy. Always messy.
Coffee first. Always coffee. I shoved a pod into the machine, leaned on the counter, and waited for it to gurgle.
"Shit," I muttered to no one but myself. "How am I gonna pay rent now? They'll kick me out and sell my green couch to some other loser who didn't get fired from their job."
The machine beeped. I took a sip that burned my tongue and didn't care. "Great. Soon to be homeless. Just me and Miso….squatting under a bridge, teaching tutorials on how to contour with dirt.."
Miso barked once, wagged her tail and nosed the cabinet. Right. Her dinner.
I grabbed her bowl, tossed in some kibble, added the leftover chicken I'd been hoarding for myself. She was already drooling.
"Don't say I don't love you," I sighed, setting it down.
I stayed standing at the counter, staring at the steam rising from my mug.
For a second, the noise of the apartment faded, and all I could hear was my own heartbeat.
I'd done everything by myself. No family safety net. No sugar daddy.
I clawed my way into the studio job. I built my own kit. Paid my own rent. Hustled my way up.
And yet, it all felt… hollow.
My phone was empty. My texts were dry. I had no one to call, no one to vent to.
No boyfriend, no situationship, not even a random hookup. I used to have those. Used to line up strangers on apps, swipe my loneliness away one body at a time. Then one day I just… stopped. Stopped replying. Stopped letting people in. Stopped trying.
And now it's just me and Miso.
It's… sad. But it's my life.
I blew on the coffee, took another sip…
That's when I heard the thump.
When I turned back, I froze.
Miso had her teeth hooked on the strap of my bag, tugging it down from the chair like it was her personal chew toy. My jaw dropped.
"Miso! Oh my God. I told you not to touch my bag!" I snatched it up. "Do you have any idea how much this costs? This is the latest edition of…"
I stopped mid sentence.
Because the notebook had slipped out and landed on the floor. The same ugly brown notebook from the bus stop. Only… it wasn't ugly anymore.
The pages weren't wet. At all. Dry as if it had never been in the rain. And the handwriting…what was once black ink was glowing. Like actual gold.
I blinked, rubbed my eyes, looked again. Still glowing.
"That's… weird," I muttered.
Behind me, Miso kept crunching her food like nothing creepy was happening two feet away. I dropped onto the couch, and stared at the book, afraid to touch it.
The glow pulsed faintly, like it was alive. Like it was breathing.
I reached out, slowly, like the thing might bite me. My fingers brushed the cover….it was warm.
"Miso," I muttered, glancing at her. "If I die touching this, you better cry at my funeral."
She didn't look up, too busy with her food.
I flipped it open to the first page.
The ink shimmered gold, curling across the page.
If you're reading this, then fate isn't finished with us. I don't care how far you've run, how much time has passed….come back to me. I'm still waiting. Always waiting.
I stared. Then burst out laughing.
"What the actual…?"
I slammed it shut so fast dust puffed out the sides. I coughed, and widened my eyes
My laugh came out shaky. "Come back to me? Yeah, sure. Real funny. I don't do come back to me's. Nobody's ever waited for me. And I'm absolutely not doing cryptic diary at noon. I've seen horror movies. This is how people get possessed."
I cleared my throat and sneered at it. "You don't get to sound like a love letter and freak me out at the same time. Pick a lane."
It reminded me of him. The man on the bench. The one who vanished into thin air, leaving only this book behind. The one with the soft voice.
And the tattoo. That stupid Cupid arrow etched into his wrist. It's all weird.
The book sat there on the table.
I leaned back on the couch, clutching my mug. "It's just a notebook,"
I said out loud, mostly to convince myself. "A weird, glowing, creepy ass notebook that breaks the laws of physics… but still. Just paper."
Miso burped.
"Exactly," I muttered. "Even the dog's not impressed."
But my eyes kept sliding back to it.
Come back to me.
Why did it feel like it was written to me?
My stomach dropped.
"Nope," I said again. "Weird."
And yet….I couldn't look away.
Miso finished her food and hopped up beside me, curling against my thigh.
"Don't look at me like that," I muttered, scratching behind her ears. "I'm not reading it."
The book pulsed faintly.
I stood up fast. "Nope. We're not doing this. We're gonna scroll through the gram instead. Normal, healthy coping mechanism."
I grabbed my phone, thumbed open Instagram Live, and instantly regretted it.
Linda Kyle was live. Center stage. Wearing a wig that looked like a dead raccoon glued to her scalp.
And don't even get me started on the foundation….it was three shades too light. She looked like Casper's bitter aunt.
I almost choked on my coffee. "Oh my God. The disrespect to color-matching."
She was all fake smiles and fake teeth. "Yes, darlings, we're back on air. Sadly, my former makeup artist won't be with us anymore. He was incompetent, unreliable, and frankly unprofessional. I deserve better."
Is she talking about me? What the actual fuck! She called me incompetent and unprofessional?!
I can't still stick with unreliable but those two? Nah!
I spilled out my coffee all over Miso.
Linda posted my face…my beautiful face on the livestream.
Oh you've got to be kidding me
The comments went feral:
"LMAO not him."
"He's kinda cute tho ngl."
"That's the guy?? I saw him this morning fighting a pregnant lady for a seat."
"Wait…same guy who yelled at that old woman for walking too slow???"
My thumb froze.
That happened this morning?
"Ohhhhh," I whispered, gripping my phone tighter. " How the hell did that even…"
I threw my phone onto the couch. Miso yelped and jumped up after it, wagging her tail like she thought this meltdown was playtime.
Everything was pissing me off.. I couldn't even scroll in peace anymore without seeing my own mugshot under Linda's ugly ass wig.
"I'm done. I'm done!" I told Miso, pacing around the room. "I cannot be the main character of the internet today. Not with that photo."
The notebook was still sitting on the coffee table, glowing faintly like it was laughing at me.
I glared. "Don't look at me like that."
It didn't stop glowing.
"Fine!" I grabbed it, and stormed toward my bedroom. "You win, creep ass book."