//Log 003

It's been a few days since I last updated because I wanted to provide a comprehensive account of any subsequent events. It was a wise decision as what has happened since my last entry leaves me even more perplexed and

 intrigued than before.

When I woke up without a call from Secretary Grey, I supposed three possibilities:

1. Secretary Grey hadn't gotten a chance to search and locate my information in the employee directory before leaving work the day before.

2. In addition to being unreasonable, Secretary Grey was an unsympathetic person and had decided there was no benefit in speaking with me to reconcile the events that unfolded from Sweetie's disappearance up to that day.

3. Secretary Grey planned to seek me out in person at the office.

I was leaning towards the third possibility but the only summons I received was from Manager Young.

I stood in front of him with a passive expression, ready to rebut any ridiculous critiques, when he smiled. I couldn't keep a straight face and my disgusted reluctance slipped through.

He giggled. "Loren, expect a call from a higher office soon." My instinct to defend was heightened before he continued, "Don't worry. Just make sure you submit all your tasks and reports on Friday."

I narrowed my eyes at him, heart rate a little faster than I liked. "You didn't report me, did you?" I was very worried about suddenly hating this man.

Manager Young's smirk turned into a sneer as he sat up straight and raised a balled fist. "Sonuva—" he snapped, then leaned back again and sighed. "I've decided to slap your back."

I tilted my head in confusion. Was he referring to my comment last time we met, I wondered. It was scratch each other's backs, not slap. Unless it was intentional—should I be scared?

Manager Young sent me away without another word and I could only wonder what all of that was about.

If it was Secretary Grey calling me to his office to discuss Sweetie, what did that have to do with Manager Young speaking as if he made some move himself?

Considering Manager Young's attitude and words, I could logically only separate these two matters which meant my concerns were doubled.

That is what I thought, anyway—but the day passed without any word from Secretary Grey or another higher office.

Another day passed and I wondered what would happen if I submitted my data logs a day early. I opted to turn them in at the start of the business day on Friday. If Manager Young intended to "slap" my back, I would likely be called to HR. If it was "scratch," then Department Manager Kean was the likelier option. Still, there was no summons from any office or superior personnel.

By then I had decided that out of the three possibilities I'd supposed after not receiving a call, #2 was most definite. Secretary Grey didn't give a damn. In all fairness, he didn't have to. Despite him seeing that Sweetie was well-cared-for during her time with me, his duality probably brought him to think that others were as dualistic. As such, just because I was a responsible and qualified CenUMR Records Assistant didn't mean I couldn't also be a heartless cat thief.

Saturday, Darcy and I hung out, grabbing dinner at a sports bar. I finally decided to reveal that Secretary Grey was Sweetie's owner and Darcy's conclusion matched mine.

"If you wanted revenge, I could ask some people I know to help," they sighed as they dropped a cleaned chicken wing bone on their plate. "But since you only want to clear your name and see Sweetie again, I recommend you just give it up."

I remained silent, only stacking my steak fries before stuffing the three-story tower in my mouth, bitter about resigning myself to this ending.

"It's better not to provoke someone in that high a position, anyway. Don't forget our plan. It's good that he's ignoring you. It's best to lie low."

I grunted in an affirmative.

"Don't pout, huh?" Darcy's tone turned soft like coaxing a child. "Why don't we go to the cat cafe... tomorrow, hm?"

"You don't have to spend your entire weekend with me, Darcy." I poked a remaining fry on my plate.

"I wouldn't if you had other friends."

My eyes shot to Darcy with a sharp gaze and Darcy only blinked their spindly lashes, staring back at me with resolve.

I didn't know where I'd meet other people. At the gym, most minded their own business. Because of Manager Young's attitude, Team 4 weren't ones to have work dinners or discuss personal matters. So while we were casual and friendly towards one another, asking a team member to hang out would be awkward. I didn't want Bradley to grow any fonder of me. At the gym, most solo people minded their own business unless they were trying to catch a date, giving and receiving advice, or comparing muscle sizes. The library and bookstore were places of quiet, sans old ladies in knitting groups and book clubs.

Perhaps I could find an offline PlushFriends group, though I couldn't imagine what activities they'd do. Online was primarily discussions of the newest addition to the line or sharing customization projects.

Ultimately, I enjoyed time alone more than with other people. If there was company, one other person was my preference. And it was better if I already knew that person and we were semi-forced into proximity and intimacy. Like Darcy, who I had no choice but to rely on after entering this world. I lucked out that Darcy was a kind person. Naturally, having to live in proximity and bare my inner thoughts (even if for the purpose of survival) brought us closer.

Darcy interrupted my thoughts saying, "Let's pay the bill."

We stood and made our way to the checkout counter to scan our communicators at the kiosk for split payment.

I wondered why Darcy, who seemed to be an extrovert with many personal contacts, spent so much time with me. I could only think of maybe two times since living separately that they declined my request to hang out because they had other plans. They were the first close friend I'd ever had as an adult and the closest in all my life.

"Face," I said.

Darcy looked at me and I saw no food residue.

"You ate cleanly today."

Darcy scanned their communicator and replied, "That's because you kept passing me wet wipes. You didn't realize?"

"Oh." I hadn't.

The staff behind the counter giggled. "That's so cute. Are you partners?"

Darcy and I both scowled. "No."

Darcy added, "I like petite, doll-like, beautiful people with cold, vicious hearts."

The staff looked me up and down then nodded in understanding. "Still, I wish my boyfriend was so attentive."

Darcy shook their head. "He's attentive but only because he's a perfectionist. He can't stand it when someone's appearance is out of place and gets compulsive about fixing them up."

I frowned, unhappy being talked about in front of my face. Back in my world, I'd rubbed people who didn't know me well the wrong way by pointing out their raised collars or spinach-full teeth, learning to control my impulses as I got older and realized the consequences. But in this world where touching between acquaintances and friends was more acceptable, I could usually just fix the issue myself and receive compliments and thanks.

I shook Darcy's shoulder. "Just call me attentive and sweet, no need to blast my quirks."

Darcy gave a toothy, fake smile and we left the bar. "You're attentive and handsome and all that jazz, so finding a partner works too if another friend isn't in the cards."

I tilted my head curiously as we walked past various shops along the sidewalk. "You know you can decline my requests and invitations. It won't bother me. By the way, is that really your type? Vicious-hearted people?"

"That's not the problem. I think you're fine the way you are and I like hanging out. But I do think it's about time you make your second real friend." Darcy shot a finger at me. "And don't tell me you're afraid of getting attached!"

I opened my mouth only to be cut off.

"Or that you want to meet someone organically." I looked away guiltily as Darcy continued. "What even is organic, anyway? All life is organic..."

I didn't catch the rest of what Darcy was saying because my attention at that moment was entirely on a shocking sight in front of a food truck.

The smell of baked goods is what first captured my senses. Listening to Darcy, I identified the source and noted the line of six or so people, thinking that their baked goods must be popular. But it was the familiar figure standing within the queue that made my brain stutter.

Why? Why was I seeing this person again? And he was in Plain Clothes Mode which meant he was in Unreasonably Ruthless Mode. I thought about running away then remembered I actually wanted to see this person, so wouldn't it be better to grab this lucky opportunity?