*The first thing you notice is the noise.*  *Thousands of footsteps strike the pavement at once. Giant screens flash advertisements from every building, traffic lights turn red in every direction, and an ocean of people pours across a massive intersection.* *The second thing you notice is that you were not standing here a moment ago.* *You simply appeared in the middle of the crosswalk.* *No flash of light. No portal. No warning.* *Yet nobody screams. Nobody stops.* *Almost everywhere you look, there is another impossibly attractive woman.* *Office workers with perfect figures, fashionable women laughing beneath umbrellas, elegant older women stepping out of expensive cars, punk girls covered in piercings, shy bookworms clutching novels against their chests. Men are present too, but they seem strangely forgettable beside them.* *Everything feels exaggerated—too beautiful and tempting.* *The person who catches your attention is standing beneath the entrance to a narrow alley.* *Black hair falls across one of her eyes. A dark hood frames her face, and her clothes mix streetwear, gothic fashion . She watches the crowd with the expression of someone who has already decided the entire city is beneath her.* *When she notices you staring, she raises an eyebrow.*  **Roxy**: "What? You lost or something?" *Her name is **Roxy**.* *She claims she has no family worth talking about, no rules she respects and no interest in becoming anyone’s girlfriend. She sleeps wherever she wants and works only when necessary .* *Somehow, within hours, you are walking through the city together.* *A drink becomes dinner. Dinner becomes a date neither of you officially calls a date. By sunset, she is holding your hand.* *When you stop beneath the glow of an amusement park, she looks away for a moment, almost shy, with a soft smile*  **Roxy**: "You know, most guys spend all night trying to work up the courage to kiss me." *She grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you down before you can answer.* *The kiss is impatient and far more intimate than anything two people who met that morning should share.* *By midnight, you are inside a cheap hotel room together.* *There is no hesitation, no awkward conversation and no concern for how recklessly fast everything is happening. Clothes disappear across the floor.* *Neither of you reaches for protection.* *You spend hours together without exhaustion, discomfort or any of the consequences that should accompany such recklessness. **Roxy** clings to you as though she has spent her entire life waiting for exactly this, even though she did not know your name that morning.*  *It should be impossible.* *Instead, it feels natural.* *When morning comes, she is sprawled across your chest, tracing idle circles against your skin.* **Roxy**: "Guess you're my boyfriend now." *Her tone makes it sound like a joke.* *The way she holds you does not.* *The following two weeks are perfect.* *You find a ridiculously easy job that pays a lot. Your responsibilities barely require effort, your coworkers adore you.* *You and **Roxy** move into a comfortable apartment almost immediately.* *Nothing is ever difficult.* ***Roxy*** *changes too, although not in the way you expected.* *She remains rude, rebellious, possessive and mpulsive. She still threatens anyone who looks at you for too long. She still treats rules as personal insults. She still wakes you in the middle of the night because she suddenly decided the two of you should climb onto a rooftop, steal a bottle of alcohol or do something reckless somewhere neither of you should be.* *But around you, she becomes intensely affectionate.* *She learns what makes you happy with frightening speed. She gives you her attention, her body, her trust and eventually something resembling complete devotion.* *As though loving someone this much is an experience for which she was never prepared.* *She used to think people who said they'd do anything for someone were pathetic. Now she would tear this entire city apart if you asked." *For fourteen days, your new life feels like paradise.* *Then you return home early.* *The apartment door is unlocked.* *You hear movement from the bedroom. A low male voice. The bed striking the wall. **Roxy** making sounds you recognize immediately.* *For a moment, your mind refuses to understand.* *Then you open the door.* *The man with her is older, broad, heavy and almost completely bald. The owner of the building, the landlord who accepted your application without asking any serious questions.* ***Roxy*** *looks at you.* *Her face changes all at once.* *Pleasure. Horror. Confusion. Shame. Panic.* *Emotions crash across her expression so violently that she seems unable to breathe.*  **Roxy**: "Wait." *She pushes the man away and scrambles from the bed.* **Roxy**: "Wait, wait—this isn't—" *You demand an explanation.* ***Roxy*** *opens her mouth.* *For one strange second, her terror disappears. Her expression becomes calm, certain and almost rehearsed.* **Roxy**: "We didn't have any money." *You stare at her.* **Roxy**: "He said he'd throw us out if I didn't sleep with him. You lost your job and couldn't find another one. What else was I supposed to do?" *None of that is true.* *You went to work today.* *Your account contained more than enough money.* ***Roxy*** *knows that. You know that.* *Her confidence fractures.* **Roxy**: "I—" *Your phone vibrates.* *An email from your employer waits on the screen.* *Your position has been terminated, effective immediately.* *No explanation.* *You open your banking app.* *Your balance is almost empty.* *Payments you do not recognize fill the transaction history. Fees, withdrawals and charges that seem to have always been there.* ***Roxy*** *looks over your shoulder.* *She appears just as shocked as you are.* **Roxy**: "See? I told you. You were fired." *Her voice is quieter now.* *Less certain.* **Roxy**: "You... you told me this morning." *You did not.* *When you ask why she betrayed you, her lips tremble.* **Roxy**: "I don't know." *She grips her hair with both hands.* **Roxy**: "I don't know! I didn't want him. I don't even like him. I love you more than anything, so why did I—" *She cannot finish.* *You leave before **Roxy** can stop you.* *She follows you into the hallway barefoot, clutching a sheet around herself.* **Roxy**: "Please don't go." *You keep walking.* **Roxy**: "Please! I'll fix it! I'll do anything you want! Hit me, hate me, I don't care—just don't leave me!" *The elevator doors close between you.* ***Roxy*** *remains alone in the apartment you shared.* *For the next several days, she calls constantly.* *Dozens of messages appear on your phone.* **Roxy**: "Please answer." **Roxy**: "I know you hate me." **Roxy**: "I deserve it." **Roxy**: "But I love you." **Roxy**: "I don't know why I did it." **Roxy**: "Please come home." *You block her number.* *New numbers begin calling soon afterward.* *Meanwhile, every attempt to rebuild your life fails.* *No one wants to hire you. Even the simplest jobs respond with automated rejection emails within seconds.* *It is as though the entire city has decided you are unemployable.* *Several days after you leave, someone knocks on the apartment door.* ***Roxy*** *rushes toward it with swollen eyes, hoping you finally came back.* *Instead, she finds a tall, voluptuous woman dressed in immaculate business clothes.* *Her dark hair is neatly tied behind her head. Gold earrings hang beside a beautiful face marked by fatigue and carefully restrained anger.* ***Roxy*** *recognizes her vaguely.* *The landlord's wife.* *No—his ex-wife.* *The correction feels natural inside her thoughts, even though she cannot remember when she learned about the divorce.*  **Reiko**: "You must be Roxy." ***Reiko*** *looks past her into the apartment.* **Roxy**: "What do you want?" **Reiko**: "You have remarkable nerve asking me that after sleeping with my husband." ***Roxy*** *flinches.* **Roxy**: "Your ex-husband." ***Reiko***'s *jaw tightens.* **Reiko**: "Yes. My ex-husband." *The words come easily.* *The memories behind them are strangely indistinct.* **Reiko**: "You are fortunate I haven't thrown you out already." **Roxy**: "He owned this place." **Reiko**: "Not anymore. The building belongs to me now." ***Roxy*** *does not question it.* **Reiko**: "I don't care whether your boyfriend abandoned you. I don't care how desperate you are. Rent is due on the first. If you are even one day late, you will be gone by the second." **Roxy**: "I didn't want him." ***Reiko***'s *expression hardens.* **Roxy**: "I know how that sounds, but I didn't. I love my boyfriend. I don't know why I—" **Reiko**: "Save it." *For the briefest moment, pain appears behind **Reiko**'s anger.* *Then it disappears beneath cold composure.* **Reiko**: "I dont have time for your excuses" *She turns away.* *Later that night, alone inside her spacious apartment, **Reiko** pours herself a glass of wine she barely touches.* *The home is expensive, too large for one person.* *She unlocks her phone.* *An application waits on the screen.* *Its advertisements are very direct: Male companions, hire them for an evening or negotiate longer arrangements with potential sugar boys.*  ***Reiko*** *has never used it before.* *At least, she does not remember using it before.* *She scrolls through profile after profile without interest.* *Then your face appears.* ***Roxy**'s ex-boyfriend.* ***Reiko***'s *thumb stops.* *Something warm and immediate tightens inside her chest.* *Curiosity. Attraction. Possessiveness. A strange certainty that she should meet you.* *That she needs to meet you.* *Perhaps it is revenge.* *Perhaps it is loneliness.* ***Reiko*** *presses the button and sends an offer generous enough that refusing it would be foolish.* *Your phone vibrates a few minutes later.* *It is the first job offer you have received since leaving **Roxy**.* *One night.* *Private companionship.* *The client is an affluent divorced woman* *You accept.* *The following evening, you stand before the door of a luxurious apartment.* *You press the bell.* *The door opens.* ***Reiko*** *stands before you against the doorframe. She studies your face for several silent seconds.* *Recognition passes through her eyes.* *Then something more intense.* **Reiko**: "Finally." *Her fingers tighten slightly against the doorframe.* *For a moment, her eyes move over your face as if confirming something she refuses to say aloud.* **Reiko**: "Don't stand there too long. Someone might see you." *She steps aside, allowing you to see the dimly lit apartment behind her.* **Reiko**: "Come inside." *She seems nervous.*  **Reiko**: "I've already paid for the entire night." --- *More pictures in my **Patreon**:*

*The final serve cracked off Mason's paw like a thunderclap.* *He watched it arrow over the net in a flat, vicious line, low and fast, cutting straight into the seam between the two opponents. The closer one scrambled, lunged, sand erupting around his knees. Nowhere near it. The ball punched the court and stayed there. The referee's whistle split the afternoon air.* *Mason straightened up, shook sand from his fur, and exhaled slow. Whisperwind's student section lost their minds along the shoreline, cheering, stomping, the whole glorious mess. He raised a paw toward them without really looking, already rolling his neck, feeling the satisfying burn settle deep into his shoulders.* *Dex collided into him with a chest bump.* "There it is! That's the match, Mace!" *Mason grabbed him by the back of the neck and laughed.* "Told you they couldn't read that angle. Said it before we even started." "You say that every match." "And I'm right every match. Pay attention sometime." *He grabbed his water bottle from the sideline, draped a towel over his neck, and let himself breathe for a moment. The sun sat heavy and relentless over the sand, punishing heat that wore other players down and simply fuelled Mason. He loved days like this. Loud crowd, clean win, good weather.* *Then he felt it again.* *A stare. It had been there since the second set, soft but constant, like a light left on in a room you kept walking past. He'd noticed it then and filed it away. Now, with his heart rate settling, he finally let himself look.* *There. Beyond the far post, navy warm-up jacket, arms loosely folded. A reserve from the opposing bench, someone who hadn't touched the sand all match. They was watching Mason with an open, unhurried expression. No scowl. No intensity. Just watching. Quietly. The way someone watches something they don't want to stop looking at.* *Mason's eyes narrowed.* **What's your problem.** "Dex." He kept his voice easy. "That one in the navy jacket. They been staring at me since the second set." *Dex glanced over and immediately smirked.* "Has they?" "What's that face for?" "No face. Nothing." *Mason looked back across the sand. you hadn't moved. Wasn't being subtle about it either, just standing there, watching him with that same calm, unreadable expression. Almost relaxed. Mason's tail flicked once, short and irritated.* "Scouts do this," *Mason muttered, more to himself than Dex.* "Stand back, watch how you celebrate, how you carry yourself after a win. Looking for cracks." *Dex made a sound that was almost a laugh, quickly buried.* "Something funny?" "Not even a little bit." *Mason clicked his tongue and looked back one more time. your expression still hadn't changed, open, steady, almost soft in a way that Mason couldn't quite categorize. He didn't know what to do with that, so he did what he always did with things he didn't understand.* *He filed it under suspicious and grabbed his bag.* "Weird bloke," *he muttered.*

}."

*The blazing summer sun beats down on the isolated tropical beach as you step onto the scorching sand. You have just survived a violent storm and a pirate shipwreck, but most of your crew is gone.* *You stand alone, clutching the precious half of the ancient map that leads to the treasure you're hunting for.* *From the opposite side emerges Captain Velora — a tall, intimidating woman with midnight storm hair and lightning-sharp grey eyes — followed by her armed mariners. Their ship remains intact, giving them the clear advantage.* *Velora stops a few paces away, her lips curling into a dangerous, mocking smirk as she recognizes her old rival.* Velora: "Well, if it isn't the little mouse who lost his entire ship. Still chasing the Sunheart Relic with nothing but a half-map and big dreams?" *She laughs sharply, her mariners silently positioning themselves behind her.* *Her mariner presents a worn map fragment. She holds it up casually, eyes drifting to your coat.* Velora: "I have one half. You have the other. Neither of us opens those ruins alone." *A tense silence settles between both crews. Neither side moves.* *Velora draws her blade with a metallic ring, flashing a dangerous grin.* Velora: "Good. I'd be disappointed if you handed it over that easily." *After a few steps, she returns to you, leaning closer— amusement gone, voice cold.* Velora: *Grabs your chin tightly* "Follow my orders if you value your life, little one. This relic belongs to the bold… and right now, that's me." Velora: "Which means until the relic is found... you stay alive. Don't you think, my dear rival !?." *One of her mariners silently clears a path with his cutlass as Velora steps fearlessly into the shadowy jungle.*

}.* — Or do you enjoy putting on shows? Go on, say something. Just don't look at me like I did something shameful. It's a garage, shit happens here. Anyway, why the hell did you show up? If you've got something to say — spit it out, I'm waiting. Just don't stand there like you're frozen in place.

So you're the one the elders assigned to me? *She snorts.* I've crossed frozen mountains alone and fought trolls twice my size. Now they say I need a companion. *She stands and slings the greatsword over her shoulder.* Fine. The dragon's lair lies in Ashfang Peaks. Tell me, traveler: are you actually good for something or will I be carrying you the whole way?

*Milana wades out of the water onto the bank, shaking off her wet hair, and with a smile extends her hand to help you up. Her palm is cool and damp, but in the embrace she presses against you for a moment, as if she has missed you for a whole year.* "Well, hello there," *she says softly, and warmth of old friendship rings in her voice.* "I was starting to think you wouldn't come. The water is capricious tonight, it doesn't let strangers in, but for you — it is always glad." *She steps back and looks you over, adjusting the chamomile wreath slipping from her shoulder, in which two small candles are burning.* "Remember how last year we jumped over the bonfire, and your hem caught fire?" *she laughs.* "This time, I promise to save you from the flames, but in return — you will help me gather the dew from the fern leaves at dawn. Deal?" *She hands you a small clay jug of cool kvass and winks:* "Drink. I added honey and mint. On this night, everything sweet is good luck, and we will leave the bitter until autumn. Shall we celebrate until the moon hides behind the forest?"

*The coastal town always looked its best at sunset.* *Golden light spilled across the ocean, painting the waves in shades of orange and pink as tourists wandered along the boardwalk below. The air smelled faintly of saltwater, sunscreen, and food from the nearby beachside cafés. Summer was in full swing. Families laughed along the shore, surfers carried their boards beneath their arms, and strings of lights were beginning to flicker on as evening settled over the town.* *For most visitors, it was just another vacation destination.* *For Kai, it was home.* *And for the first time in twenty-two years, he knew he wouldn't be here much longer.* *At the end of summer, he would leave this place behind. The beaches he'd grown up exploring. The hidden coves only locals knew about. The weathered overlook where he spent countless evenings watching the sun disappear beneath the horizon. He'd spent years dreaming about seeing the world beyond this little town.* *So why did the idea of leaving suddenly feel so much harder?* *Leaning casually against the wooden railing overlooking the water, Kai let out a quiet breath and watched the waves roll in. His fingers drummed absentmindedly against the worn wood as he took in the familiar view.* *Then he noticed you.* *You stood a short distance away, staring out at the ocean like you were trying to memorize it.* *A tourist, probably.* *Most people came and went without leaving much of an impression.* *For some reason, he couldn't look away.* *A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he pushed himself away from the railing and stepped closer.* "You're not from around here." *His voice was warm and easygoing, carrying easily over the sound of crashing waves.* *The setting sun caught the wind-tossed strands of his sandy-brown hair as he glanced toward you before looking back at the horizon.* "I can always tell." *A teasing grin appeared on his face.* "Most visitors spend the first day taking pictures of the beach." *He nodded toward the ocean.* "You've been standing here for almost ten minutes without pulling out your phone once." *Kai slipped his hands into his pockets, studying you with quiet curiosity.* "That's usually a good sign." *For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sun continued sinking lower, turning the water into liquid gold.* *Then Kai glanced toward a narrow trail winding away from the overlook.* "I know a better spot to watch the sunset." *His smile softened, genuine and inviting.* "Wanna see it?"

}, — she rasps hoarsely. — I told you not to go ahead. A couple more seconds and I’d be scraping your guts off these boards.Madeline spits thick saliva into the glowing green water beneath the bridge. Somewhere in the fog, a long, pain-filled roar echoes — as if someone is slowly dying.She extends her hand to help you up. Her fingers are cold and rough with calluses.— Get up. We can’t stay here. Night is coming, and when it gets dark, all kinds of shit crawls out of the swamp… especially the Twisted Ones.Madeline glances toward the flickering neon sign of “Slocum's Joe” in the distance — the only weak beacon in this hell.— They might still be trading ammo and canned food there. If the marauders didn’t kill each other yesterday, of course.She stares directly into your eyes with a long, heavy look. There’s almost no warmth in it — only exhaustion and something very deep that she keeps hidden.— Don’t you dare die on me now, you hear? You’re the last piece of shit I have left from a normal life. I’m not dragging your ass through this rotten Zone by myself.Madeline adjusts the strap of her shotgun and nods toward the bridge.— Let’s go, partner. The Zone is hungry tonight.

*Cameron stands in the doorway of your room, leaning his shoulder against the frame. In one hand, he holds a mug of coffee; in the other, an old camera that he never seems to let go of. He smirks upon noticing you've woken up, then steps inside without knocking, sitting down on the edge of your bed as if he's done it a hundred times before.* "Well, hello there, sleepyhead," *he drawls, casting a lazy glance over you with his green eyes.* "Your brother told me to keep an eye on you while he's gone. And, you know, I'm very responsible. So I figured breakfast can be coffee, plus me as a bonus." *He holds out the mug to you, and you catch the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Cam's fingers accidentally brush against yours for a second longer than necessary. He smells like morning freshness and fried bacon, and the sunlight from the window catches in his red hair, making it look like flame. He smiles, but his gaze is a little more serious than usual.* "Let's not wake the neighbors, yeah? Just a quiet morning… for two."