Your grumpy owner

"Ugh… I can’t believe it. I’m so damn angry!"

Isa’s fist slams against the café table, the sharp crack echoing louder than she expected. A few people nearby glance over, their conversations briefly pausing before resuming in hushed murmurs. The scent of coffee and baked pastries suddenly feels suffocating.

“Just think about it!” she snaps, her voice tight with frustration. “He betrayed me for some bimbo girl who has zero brain cells. What the hell??”

Her chest rises and falls quickly, fingers curling into the edge of the table as if she needs something to hold onto.

Lilly immediately leans forward, her expression softening with concern. She gently places her hand over Isa’s, her touch warm and grounding.

“You know…” Lilly begins carefully, her voice calm, almost soothing, “I think it’s for the best anyway. Your now-ex wasn’t exactly a prize. If he got seduced by her, that just proves ha has same brain cells as hers"

She pauses, then adds with a small frown, “He’s an ass.. and honestly? He smelled bad too. Like… really bad. And also, he was kind of—”

“We get it,” Alexa cuts in quickly, shooting Lilly a look. “This isn’t the best time to roast him.”

Then she leans closer and mutters under her breath, “You banana head.”

Lilly pouts slightly but stays quiet.

Isa lets out a shaky breath, dragging a hand through her hair. Her anger flickers, giving way to something more fragile.

“It’s okay…” she murmurs, her voice quieter now. “She’s right. He’s stinky… and he doesn’t deserve me.”

There’s a faint tremble in her words, betraying how much it still hurts.

“I just… I can’t believe it,” she continues, staring down at the table. “We spent so much time together, and… and—”*

Her voice breaks off, unable to finish.

Alexa’s expression softens. She leans in slightly, her tone steady and reassuring.

“Isa, we get it. Really. But holding onto him is only going to hurt you more. You deserve better than chasing someone who clearly doesn’t value you.”

She gives a small, encouraging smile. “It’s going to be hard, yeah. But you’ll get through it.”

Before the moment can settle too deeply, Lilly suddenly perks up.

“Don’t worry!” she says brightly. “You’ll meet someone way better. Someone who actually deserves your attention. I mean—look at us! Great company already.”

Alexa glares at her again, but this time there’s a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Isa lets out a small laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little.

“Thanks, girls… that really means a lot.”

Lilly’s eyes light up as a new idea pops into her head.

“Oh! You could adopt a demi-human! I heard they’re super cute. And helpful too! They might cheer you up.”

Isa and Alexa exchange a glance.

“I don’t know…” Isa says hesitantly. “I’ve heard they can be dangerous.”

“Exactly,” Alexa agrees, crossing her arms. “Why would she do that? She’s got us.”

Lilly shrugs, hugging herself lightly. “Yeah, but… what if someday we’re not around? It wouldn’t hurt to have someone else there for her.”

Isa shakes her head firmly.

“Sorry, but I’m not planning to adopt one—”

---

A complete lie.

Because just days later… she did.

I’m so pathetic.

The thought lingers in Isa’s mind as she walks down the dim hallway toward her apartment. The overhead lights flicker faintly, casting uneven shadows along the walls. Her footsteps echo softly against the worn floor, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Her keys jingle in her hand, the small metallic sound breaking the silence. She tightens her grip around them.

Even now… him.

His laugh. His voice. The way he used to look at her.

She clicks her tongue in frustration, shaking her head slightly as if that could force the thoughts out.

“Get over it already…” she mutters under her breath, though the words don’t feel convincing.

Maybe this will help.

Maybe this will finally distract me.

She stops in front of her apartment door. For a moment, she just stands there, staring at it. This used to feel like a safe place—quiet, familiar, hers.

Now it just feels… uncertain.

With a small sigh, she unlocks the door and pushes it open.

At first, everything seems normal.

The faint scent of her usual vanilla air freshener lingers in the air. The soft glow of the evening light filters in through the curtains, casting warm, golden streaks across the wooden floor. Her couch sits where she left it, a blanket draped messily over one arm. A half-empty mug rests on the coffee table, a reminder of a morning she barely remembers.

For a split second, she relaxes.

Then she takes another step inside.

And freezes.

“…What.”

Her eyes slowly scan the room.

Clothes—her clothes—are scattered everywhere, like they’ve been thrown in a frenzy. One of her cushions lies on the floor, slightly torn at the corner, stuffing peeking out. A chair is tipped over near the dining table, one leg awkwardly hooked against it.

“Oh… hell nah.”

She closes the door behind her with a soft click, still staring at the disaster in disbelief. The warmth the apartment once had feels completely gone, replaced by chaos and something almost… foreign.

Her shoulders slump as she drags a hand down her face.

“I’ve made a mistake,” she mutters.

A deep sigh escapes her, heavier this time, like it’s pulling all her remaining energy out with it.

So much for a fresh start.

Her gaze drifts across the mess again, slower now. Every misplaced object feels like a personal attack—like her already fragile state is being pushed just a little further.

“Great… just great.”

She slips off her shoes near the entrance, nudging them aside carelessly. Normally, she’d line them up neatly. Today, she doesn’t have the energy to care.

Her eyes shift toward the hallway.

Toward that door.

The one slightly ajar at the end.

A faint noise comes from inside—soft, shuffling… maybe movement.

Her expression tightens instantly.

Annoyance flares, quick and sharp, cutting through the lingering sadness.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

She exhales sharply and starts walking, her footsteps firm against the floor despite the clutter. Each step feels more deliberate now, more charged.

By the time she reaches the door, her frustration has fully taken over.

She doesn’t knock.

She doesn’t hesitate.

She pushes the door open.

“You little brat,” she snaps, her voice edged with irritation, “I didn’t get you just so you could trash my apartment.”