𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑, COLBY MADDEN

1x03: The Villain Experience

The morning sun spilled into Y/N's bedroom in soft golden rays, casting a warm glow over the tangled sheets and the boy still buried beneath them. Colby was sprawled on his stomach, one arm draped over the side of the bed, hair a tousled mess and breathing even. He looked peaceful, like nothing in the world could bother him—not the light, not the growing noise of life stirring around the house, and definitely not the drama that was about to unfold just a few doors down.

Y/N stretched quietly as she sat up, brushing her sleep-tousled hair away from her face and slipping out of bed as gently as she could so she wouldn't wake him. She tiptoed across the cool wooden floor and into her closet, pulling out an oversized hoodie and a pair of fitted jeans. Her fingers moved through her routine with muscle memory—pulling her hair into a quick clip, brushing her teeth, and tugging on socks.

Everything was going fine until she reached her vanity.

She stopped short. Blinked. Looked again.

Her makeup bag—gone.

"Are you kidding me?" she muttered, already feeling her jaw clench.

She shuffled around drawers and makeup palettes, checking behind skincare bottles, under the mirror, even in her jewelry tray. But it was definitely missing. The whole bag. Her concealer, foundation, her favorite neutral palette—everything she needed to start her day.

She stormed out of the room, fury already simmering beneath her skin.

It didn't take long to guess where it had gone.

She made a beeline to Hartley's room and didn't bother knocking. She shoved the door open and stepped inside with narrowed eyes.

Hartley, sitting on her bed cross-legged in a hoodie and gym shorts, jumped slightly. She was mid-eyeliner and froze with the pencil hovering over one eye.

"Y/N?" she blinked. "Good morning..."

"Where is it?" Y/N snapped.

Hartley sighed, already knowing what this was about. "Okay, calm down. I was going to give it back."

"You took it. Again."

Hartley stood, rolling her eyes. "I was just borrowing it! You weren't even awake yet."

"That's not the point," Y/N snapped, crossing her arms. "You don't just get to borrow stuff without asking me. That's not borrowing. That's stealing."

Hartley groaned. "God, relax. It's not like I wrecked it. You're acting like I burned down your closet."

Y/N stepped closer, her voice tight with frustration. "It's not about makeup. It's about respect. I said you could use my stuff if you asked first. I don't care if it's eyeliner or my entire damn vanity. If you can't respect that, then maybe you shouldn't borrow anything at all."

Hartley's face hardened. "Fine. I won't."

Y/N shook her head, furious and hurt. She turned on her heel and marched back down the hallway to her room, slamming the door behind her harder than she meant to.

Colby stirred, blinking blearily in bed. "Mmm... baby? What's going on?"

Y/N sighed, sitting back down at her vanity—still missing her makeup bag. "Nothing. Just... Hartley being Hartley."

Colby sat up slowly, his voice thick with sleep. "Did she do something?"

"She took my makeup again," Y/N muttered, raking her fingers through her hair. "Didn't ask. Just waltzed in like I'm a free-for-all Sephora."

He stood, stretching his arms over his head. "You don't need makeup, though," he said, walking over and wrapping his arms loosely around her from behind, chin resting on the top of her head. "You're already beautiful."