Bride by Design

C H A P T E R 13

THAT HAPPILY EVER AFTER?
NO, JUST THE END.

KARYSSA

"Hey, can't you keep the volume down? You'll wake the dead with all that noise," Lauren, drowsily propped herself against the door frame, "my soul got dragged screaming out of a nice dream with the ruckus. What are you watching anyway?"

"Zombie apocalypse movie," I lowered the volume until the pandemonium eminating from the speakers' reduced to a bare whisper in the background. "Sorry, I didn't know you were in."

"Last time I checked, my name's right beside yours on the lease. Technically, I still live here. I can come back here whenever I want," she made me glide to the side before falling heavily on the sofa, "it's refreshing to see you've graduated from sappy romance movies and adapted to gore so quick. You've evolved to be a 'woman of culture' with a taste for 'brains', Teach."

"It's official; I've pissed the music industry's 'rising star'. Bag the sarcasm and get back to sleep, your highness. I won't disturb you again," I turned off the tv but she took the remote from me and brought the very thing that disrupted her peace to roaring life again. "Seriously?"

"What? I've been kicked out of dreamland, they're not admitting me back anytime soon, and I'm not barging in either," she pulled the throw pillow behind me and used it to support her head as she reclined in the spot where she has extracted me from, "all thanks to you."

"I didn't know the room that's been empty for months was unexpectedly reclaimed by the owner."

"Next time, I'll call to ask permission to come home," she exited the movie and aimlessly browsed through different channels.

"You've been gone for the most parts of the year and a half, Lauren," I took the opposite side and copied her lazy posture, "you may have skyrocketed to stardom with all your efforts within that time frame and became a multi-awarded performer but me? I didn't make a living by fortune-telling. I can't predict your schedule so a call or text in advance would be great. I might even cook for you."

"Cook?"

Her petrified look earned her a pillow to the face.

"I'll have you know I've improved."

Learning to cook was born out of necessity that later on became a hobby. I did it to save money from eating out and there's only little to choose from simple reheating and frying. I could carry myself well in the kitchen that our previous family chef would beam with pride; I was not just another mouth to feed.

"You've grown on me, Teach so I won't have them slapping you with attempted homicide by food poisoning me with your concoction. The phone's working so delivery's fine."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I promise I won't cook for you even if I go broke," peeved at her lack of confidence for my honed cooking skills, I took the cushion under her head. "You have that posh pad downtown so why not crash there?"

It's not like I wasn't thankful to still have her sharing the place with me, I just read her better. On days like this that she poofs in without warning, she's either incensed or in hiding from the world-or, just from her manager. Judging from the absence of heavy-metal strumming and crampled music sheets, it's positive-Lauren has retreated here.

"To whom should I be lying to and say you're not here?"

Their last fight a couple of months ago, she had her manager banned from the building but even after they had reconciled, she never got it lifted saying she needed a space where popularity, demanding producers, a nagging manager, and crazed paps and fans couldn't invade.