= SARAH POV =

I blinked groggily and rubbed my eyes. 

The light was coming in from a strange place.

 I squinted through my fingers and wondered why the window was right across from the bed instead of to the side…

Did rooms often shapeshift overnight?

Then the memories of last night came flooding back, and I sat up straight in bed.

 I was in Chris’ room.

I was in Chris’ bed.

“Shit,” I thought to myself and carefully turned to the side, expecting to see Chris there. 

Instead, a familiar Post-it note was stuck to the sheets on Chris’ side of the bed, with no sign of her to be found.

I sighed and fell back against the sheets, grabbing the note frustratedly.

 This meant that Chris had already left for work.

The Note Read as Follows:

Check your phone. You need to download the app from the link I sent you and sign in. Also, breakfast is in the microwave, and I already set up your computer in your room, so try your best to find a job, will you? You don’t want to be at my beck and call forever…or do you?

I bit my lip. This was seriously not how I had imagined things to go. It was different when I still had the apartment; I had felt like I could leave at any time and retreat to my safety net while stringing Chris along in my little game. However like this, I felt trapped by my own irresponsible actions, caught in a web that Chris now controlled, tightly wound around her fist.

“Ugh! This is why I hate living with you! You have always been so fucking controlling!” I exclaimed out loud and thrashed about on the sheets for a bit in defiance.

I tore up the note and left it scattered all over the sheets. I then got up and  left the room. 

Good luck trying to pick out the pieces from the sheets later, Chris.

I grinned as I pictured her crawling around the bed, searching for each scrap of torn up paper.

As I reached the door, I noticed another Post-it note stuck at eye level.

First request: pick up all the shreds of Post-it notes that you just scattered all over the bedroom. Thanks.

I looked back at the bed and groaned. 

After a good ten minutes, I had gathered every last scrap of paper and thrown them away into the wastepaper basket.

I went to the kitchen and retrieved a croissant and a milk coffee from the microwave. There was some hazelnut chocolate spread on the counter and a knife, so I sat down, cut open the croissant in half, and added a generous helping of chocolate spread inside it.

Biting into the croissant, I recognized it as one of Chris’ hotel pastries. 

I frowned at the thought, remember that she had thrown away all the food while rushing to catch up with me and the fighting couple. 

Did she make this fresh this morning?

The delicious buttery layers of the croissant mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate brought tears to my eyes. How did I ever assume that I could cook for Chris when she cooks like this?

I could at least wash dishes… ok scratch that, I could load the dish washer, so after breakfast was done, I loaded the dishwasher and skipped off to my— no, the guest room. 

Good grief I was already calling that room mine? I had to get a grip.

Sure enough, Chris had somehow found the time between taking us to the storage unit, helping the movers move everything inside, and then helping me choose outfits and personal belongings to bring home, to set up not only my PC but also my gaming console and chair! It was like my old apartment but better because I had a private chef!

I spun around happily, then froze in the middle of the room.

 “You don’t want to be at my beck and call forever…or do you?” 

I walked over and sat on the unused bed. 

Taking out my phone, I tried to focus. It was so easy to get comfortable around Chris, but the longer I stayed, depending on her, who knows how crazy the requests were going to get?

All I wanted was to be someone meaningful to her and to society, but at this point…

…I’ve been demoted even further down the pecking order! I don’t even know what the level below pet is called. Underling? Slave?

I shook my head. 

No, I need to focus; I can’t get sucked into depression. 

My life motto has always been to act first, think later, and it has worked out just fine so far, so I need to keep at it! 

I thought back on last night when we were in bed together. Chris had kicked off her shoes, loosened the top few buttons of her shirt, flopped onto the bed face-first, and fallen asleep. 

I had thought, based on what had happened in the kitchen the other day, and then back at the other place, she had been wanting to go all the way with me, but when she said sleep in her bed…turns out it was just that - proximity. 

But now we get to have breakfast with her every day!

And yet here I was…eating breakfast by myself in an empty house. Seems like everything is exactly the same as before.

Well, we still have a great friendship. I mean, she took me in  and gave me a place to stay when I was in dire need…but then she also towered over me in the middle of that empty apartment, where she listed the new terms and conditions with not an ounce of remorse or hesitation.

I flushed when I also recalled how, after Chris had paid the movers and they had left, she had bolted the doors of the storage unit and then she had turned to me and pushed me up against the storage unit door.

Chris’ intense eyes had bored into mine.

 “Starting from today onwards,” she had said “ we are no longer friends, got it? You’re my tenant. I’m your landlord. You owe me big time, and I intend to collect. A prank that has cost a portion of my savings and has rendered me unable to date for a while is not a prank; it’s a deliberate attempt to destroy my life, so you better be ready to pay for reparations.”

I had trembled so much and nodded, apologising over and over again, so yeah…not friends either it seemed.

A notification appeared on my phone, and I swiped up to open it. Something wet dripped onto the phone screen, and I looked up at the ceiling, only to realize the water was in my eyes.