DRAFT

Artist, Writer, and Mascot

One Sunday morning, the Writer went out for the day, leaving the Artist alone in the flat.

With the Writer out and doing the goddess Sága knows what, the Artist decided to make the living area as 'with a touch of art' area. Meaning, art supplies everywhere, newspaper spread out on the floor, two open boxes of Chinese food and a carton of Cranberry juice on the table, and the sound system blaring out classical music - Beethoven's violin sonata no. 9.

It was a comfortable day for the Artist. No one would tell her how messy the place was - until the writer comes back - and she could do her recent project which was painting the city skyline in peace.

The Artist was ready to start with her project when someone knocked on the door. Groaning in dismay, the artist placed all her materials on the table and went to see who disturbed her Sunday plans. She was sure it wasn't the Writer. It was still early for the grumpy yet amusing Writer to be home, plus she has keys to her 'own' apartment.

The knocking continued and when the Artist opened the door, she was surprised upon seeing her visitor. Her friend who tried to hit on the Writer and miserably failed.

Marlon.

"She's not here, 'Lon," said the Artist, knowing how Marlon was still trying to persuade the Writer to go out with him. It irked her a bit since it was her that received the backlash the most; a grumpy Writer.

"Too bad." Marlon shook his head and raised a big disposable bag that he was carrying. "I'm not here to see mi Corazon though, I'm here to see you, compadre. So, let me in, si?"

The Artist nodded and let Marlon inside the flat.

"Oi, this place is messy! Mi corazon won't like it," Marlon pointed out after seeing how the living area resembled a typical artist studio.

The Artist shrugged, ignoring Marlon's comment. "Why did you visit today?"

Marlon showed her his suave grin. He placed his bag on the floor and took out the contents.

Fluffy sheep mascot head.

Fluffy sheep mascot body.

Stiff sheep mascot limbs.

"Soooo you need help with a costume?" asked the Artist, trying out the sheep mascot head. When it fit her head, she wriggled it a bit and made 'baa' noises.

Marlon nodded. "Si, compadre. Tío asked me to make a sheep mascot for his restaurant and I need your opinion if this looks good." He began putting on the costume and showed a crooked smile to the Artist who was wearing the headpiece. "My sewing isn't top class; that's las chicas' things. And details are more of your thing."

The Artist removed the sheep head piece and gave it to Marlon. "Well, okay. Put the head part on and I'll check the outer layers for anything that needs adjusting or resewing."

And Marlon did. He wore the costume proudly and the artist checked for any flaws in the costume.

While the two are busy with the costume, the front door suddenly opened. The Artist heard the door open and looked at who came in.

It was the Writer.

"Hey! You're early!" greeted the Artist with a sunny smile.

Marlon turned his attention at the new comer waved his sheep costume limbs enthusiastically. Under the sheep mask, he was smiling widely upon seeing the writer.

But the Writer didn't say hello back or waved. She just stood by the door, frozen in place, and looked like she saw a ghost. A ghost in broad daylight.

"Are you okay?" asked the Artist, worried by the lack of response from her flatmate.

The mascot was worried as well and was about to approach the Writer. But she stepped backwards and ran out. Ran and left the flat, slamming the door loudly.

Marlon removed the head piece, confused at the Writer bolting out so suddenly. "What just happened?"

The Artist shrugged, not knowing why the Writer ran out. Ever since she lived with the woman, it was only a handful of moments that can agitate the Writer. "I dunno... She looked like she saw something creepy."

"What could she be possibly be creeped out with?" Marlon asked, twirling the mascot headpiece.

Again, the Artist shrugged. A second later, she heard the chiming tone from her smartphone and pulled it out of her backpocket to check the notification. Seeing the messenger icon and who sent it, she smiled.

It was the Writer.

The Artist opened the message and read the contents. A few seconds after of reading the message, she accidentally dropped her phone and began laughing out loud. Her friend asked why was she suddenly laughing and she just pointed her smartphone.

Curious, Marlon picked up the phone and read the opened message out loud. "'Choose: I will suffocate you with a pillow when you sleep if you don't kick that thing out of our flat or I will call the landlady and have her whack that thing to death.' that's strange, what 'thing'? And is this mi corazon?" he questioned, glancing at the contact card of the sender. It read 'Bossy Writer'.

The Artist finally stopped her laughing fit and nodded. "Oh for the love of the art gods, I forgot my flatmate's afraid of mascots!" she remembered the time they were eating at Jabee and the red bee mascot approached them. The Writer panicked, flipped their table, and ran away.

The Artist laughed again and patted Marlon's fluffy costume. "Anyway, the costume's fine. Just need to adjust the wool part and it's good to go. And you better go now before she comes back and kill the both of us or our landlady kills you," she said, pushing Marlon towards the door.

Sure the Artist is friends with Marlon, buddies for life even, but the Writer could do stuff to her and it may or may not be good to her health.

When the mascot was out of the flat, she cracked her knuckles and grinned. "Time to clean before the mistress of cleanliness comes back!"