6.What?
OR WHAT?
CHELSEA
S ean was nice.
He was very sweet and let me bake chocolate mousse cake from scratch while he watched from the island stool.
It was even better than baking at home since he had all the expensive unused equipments.
Not to mention, having an eye candy like him watch me bake made my chest feel light, my mouth babbling on about each step.
I wanted to impress him with my profound knowledge of vanilla essence and granulated sugar.
But I had a long shift at the strip club and couldn’t stop yawning or rubbing my eyes when they got teary. Of course, he noticed .
“Go to bed,” Sean said, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. He stood up from the stool, his hair falling over his brows, making him look younger.
“No, it’s fine,” I said, waving my hand.
He raised a brow. “I wasn’t asking, Princess.”
That damned word.
It was just a word. But I had imagined being a princess when I was a little girl, hoping I’d grow up into a pretty woman and marry a handsome young prince. Every woman dreamed of it until their dreams got crushed.
Because there’s no such thing as a handsome young prince.
That’s why I detested being called a princess. It made me think of young Chelsea and how happy and na?ve she was before her loving parents got a messy divorce and she had to grow up quickly.
“It’s. Fine.” I didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, but he didn’t get angry or snap at me like I had expected.
Instead, he leaned closer, only the marble island separating us. His shoulders were so broad that his shadow fell over me, making me swallow.
“Go to bed.”
It was a warning.
But I didn’t listen. Because there was something about him that made me want to be a princess. He made me feel safe. Without once touching me.
He made me want to dream about being a princess. His Princess.
“Or what, Sugar Daddy?” I purred, batting my lashes at his handsome face and dark eyes that swirled with mirth.
“You are…” he paused, and I leaned closer, wanting to hear what he would say next.
But he never finished.
My shoulders sulked when he pulled back, running a hand down his face. “Goodnight, Chelsea.”
Sean turned around, and I heard his footsteps retreat upstairs with a door closing a few seconds later.
“What the hell?” I said to myself, staring at the empty stool he had occupied moments ago.
Did I say something wrong? No. He was the one who wanted me to call him Daddy and be his sugar baby. Then why did he just leave?
I trudged upstairs, wondering if I said something weird, and turned him off. I mean, he wasn’t old old—just in his forties. I was still confused when I laid down on the bed that felt like being enveloped in a warm, fluffy cloud.
I slept peacefully, dreaming about living in a castle and having a cat butler until my shrill ringtone woke me up.
“W…what?” I said groggily, squinting in the room and sitting up. It took me a few sleepy blinks to realize I wasn’t in my room. I was at Sean’s penthouse.
Sean .
I heard water sloshing on the other side of the call and the annoyed voice of one of my roommates. “You need to come right now, Chelsea.” He seemed out of breath. “Our apartment got flooded.”
“What?!” I asked, standing up. I was wide awake. “What do you mean, it got flooded ?”
I didn’t have time to think. I saw the digital clock on the nightstand flash with number four and sixteen. Even though I was sleepy and exhausted, I grabbed my bag and slowly crept out of Sean’s luxurious penthouse. I didn’t want him to wake up and tell him what had happened.
“Uh…huh,” I whispered in the phone, scribbling a ‘sorry’ on a piece of paper and leaving it on the kitchen countertop before rushing out. My friend and roommate, Rory, was explaining how a pipe in our apartment exploded, making it flood with water.
“I’m on my way!” I said, not caring that I looked like a weirdo wearing baggy man’s clothes and running on the road at four in the morning. I had to grab a taxi since the apartment I rented was on the other side of the Los Angeles, while Sean lived on the richer side of the town.
My breaths were rushed, and I was heaving when I rushed to the fifth floor. The elevator was broken like always and an old under maintenance sign was placed in front of the doors. I winced seeing the hallway carpet damp and soggy underneath my sneakers.
When I rounded up to the corner apartment, my eyes widened seeing the water. It was murky and reached my knees. Fastening the bag on my back, I rolled the hem of the sweatpants to my thighs and waddled my way to my apartment.
I could hear Rory’s words in a blur as two of our roommates were yelling and picking their things in plastic baskets and moving them out. But it all sounded hazy to me. My eyes stung when I neared my room, seeing the water lapping at my skin. The door was open, and the bed was wet.
My soft toys were damp or floating on the water. My little brother, Noah, and I had the same baby penguins which I had bought for us with my allowance when I was a kid, and mine was now floating upside down in the water.
I grabbed it and wiped the penguin’s face, pulling it close to my chest.
There was tightness in my chest and limbs, my mouth dry.
I was trying to hold back my sob when my throat closed, seeing a photo frame knocked off my small desk and swaying by its side.
The smiling faces of my family mocked me.
I glared at my parents’ grinning faces as they looked at each other and the small baby they were holding.
I was between them with two pigtails and a toothless grin on my face.
Tears made my vision blurry, my eyelids feeling heavy.
I wanted to do so much. Scream, cry and complain to the landlord.
Demand them to pay us for the goods that got damaged, but I did none of that.
I didn’t have time for that when I had to worry about where I could live, keep my belongings that were not damaged and… shit, what am I going to do?
I tried not to overthink or panic and shoved stuff into a suitcase that was not drenched with water. I kept the damp plushies and other wet things in one basket.
“Nononono,” I said to myself, grabbing my old bulky laptop that I had kept on the desk after sending out resumes for a few positions.
I picked it up and watched in horror as water dripped down its base.
It was a cheap one I had got from eBay, and it had lasted me through my entire college.
I knew I could get three more years out of it, but…
no. I’m sure I can still get it repaired.
Uh-huh. I will get it fixed .
At least my tablet was safe and dry with the stylus. I know it’s a very risky bargain to move around with an expensive tablet, but I couldn’t live without it.
I wiped off the water from the laptop’s base with a neat cloth and kept it in my bag before cleaning up things around my room as much as I could. Everyone’s rooms were a mess, and I was sad that the chilli I had meal prepped would go to waste since the fridge was moved out.
I stared at my flooded room, feeling lost and angry.
What the hell am I going to do now?