"Not tryna' hear you tell nobody that I'm just a friend. Just tryna' make sure I'm that body that you call your man. And anytime you need a shoulder, it's yours night or day."
- I Wanna' Be by Chris Brown
**********
Aubrey rolled her eyes as she pranced around the kitchen preparing another baked good for Payton and his, apparent, friend. Who knew Hearst could be so irritating? Aubrey thought he would be cocky and childish, but no. He was incredulously goofy and exacerbating.
She was, of course, the head of making Payton and his guests treats whenever need be. One of his favorites were her homemade blueberry muffins so she was currently waiting for them to to be done. After placing them on a small silver silver tray she took a breath before exiting the kitchen and going into the entertainment room where they were playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II on the PlayStation 5. Aubrey stood in front of them purposely and put her hand on her hip.
She had on her all white, stereotypical chef uniform with the tall, boisterous hat to match. They both strained their necks to look around her and so she discretely stepped on the power outlet in the floor, making the plug come out. They both whined and objected simultaneously.
"It's not my fault. Stop requesting stuff and not even eating it all," she said referring to the finger foods, wings, chips and dip splayed all over the table.
"It didn't go completely to waste," Hearst argues before picking a tortilla chip off of the floor and dipping it in Aubrey's homemade dip.
She turned her nose up in disgust at him. "Payton, get your teammate," she complains as her stomach stirs. Pig. She then looked around, and seeing that the entire room was a mess, she started cleaning.
"Hey, what're you doing, babe? That's not your job. Don't clean that up," Payton objects when he realized what she was doing.
She looks up at him in astonishment. "Don't be ridiculous. Do you know how much sense that sentence made? None," she answers herself before proceeding to clean up after them. Payton looked at her silently before looking at Hearst, who only shrugs.
"Just let her do what she wants. I know you've seen Rio 2," he pauses before changing his voice to the father toucan. "Happy wife, happy life," he sings before smirking.
Payton smacked him in the back of his head. "That is not my wife," he mumbled.
A chuckle left his lips. "Whatever you say, Hampton. Whatever you say."
-
Aubrey walks her aching and tired body up the stairs—more like, dragged. She spoke to the different guards as she walked down the hallway and soon as she walked into her room she noticed how her bed simply invites her into its warm, softness. She knew she would have to take that auspicious invitation after she got out of her chef uniform and into the warm confines of her ceramic shower.
As soon as she started the water Payton came in unnoticed. But once he realized she was in the shower he sat on the sofa across from her bed to wait for her to come out. He wanted to talk about what happened at the football game. But most importantly he wanted to apologize for responding the way he did. He'd never been so... possessive. It wasn't like him so for that, he was regretful and apologetic.
After a good 15 minutes she finally stepped out of the shower. Rivulets of water droplets fell onto the floor from her body as she padded into her bedroom. There was a fluffy, white towel around her body and another one attending her head, turban style. There was a slight breeze that created goosebumps along her skin as she looked at the pajamas she laid out on her bed. She dropped her towel so she could begin dressing, but a snort stopped her from doing so.

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