Bad Boys

Dan

''Know what I'm going to call you? What am I going to call you puppy?'' I said, rubbing the doge behind the ear. The doge looked at me inquisitively, wondering the same thing.

"Wooof, woof, woof," barked the dog. "Wooof, woof," he continued. "Woof, woof."

Omg, was that Morse code? What a smart little doggy! All of them are so much better than human kind (excluding me of course, but that goes without saying).

"D," I said as the currently unnamed doge repeated its woofing pattern. "A, N. Dan! You're name is Dan!" I exclaimed, ignoring the strange looks from the people around me. Hmph, they wouldn't be able to tell what pure intellect was if it hit them in the face.
Dan just waved his tail at me, rubbing against my foot. I smiled, picking up the pup to find myself a servant who would get this pup a collar. Hmmm Dan seemed like a pretty plain, boring name, but maybe it stood for something.

No, not Daniel or something like that. Those kinds of nicknames are sooooo gross. No, I mean like it stood for something along the lines of Deliver-Antonioca-Nike. Yes! That was most definitely it.

"Deliver-Antonioca-Nike, is that your name?" I said.

"Woof woof," I heard back. That was clearly a sign for yes.

"Well, ok Deliver-Antonioca-Nike. Let's have some fun at this party!" I said, lifting the pup into my arms.

"Want to do a photo shoot?" I ask, rubbing behind his ear.

"Maria!" I yelled into the air, ignoring the looks I got from those around me.

A short lady with a brown bob and an outfit that definitely deserved to be behind the camera that hung around her short neck, a beige pantsuit with a floral shirt, pink tie and large purple glasses, ran up to me her clunky black shoes tapping along our expensive flooring. We had hired her as one of the 65 photographers we have on standby for all our events, from family dinners, to massive balls, she was one of the people we entrusted in capturing all our precious beauty - and memories. She was definitely getting a makeover one day.

"Yes miss?" she said. Oh my goodness, was she a Kiwi? Ruperto did say that he had an international taste when it came to staffing...I guess I would just have to get over her interesting accent.

"I need a photo shoot, now!" I ordered, shooing away all the ugly people from the area where the photo would be taken. Goodbye Mrs My-Nose-Takes-Up-Half-Of-My-Face and Mr Blobfish, and welcome meeeeee! My vision: a lady and her doge standing in the middle of a magnificent party, their beauty and serenity undisturbed by the rushing patrons. Definitely Insta worthy.

I struck a pose, Deliver-Antonioca-Nike smiling gleefully in my arms.

"Well, do your job woman!" I yelled as the lady scrambled to get her camera. She stood in front of me, kneeling to find the best position.

"Don't worry," I chimed. "Everyone angle is my best angle." I smiled in the 'mysterious but sweet' way that I had learned to perfect as a child.

She quickly snapped a few shots, changing positions as I changed my positions and Deliver-Antonioca-Nike spontaneously changed his smile and poses.

"Send them to me edited and ready to be posted, yes?" I said. Turning from the stuttering lady who mumbled some sort of response.

I then decided that I had been at this little soirée for a bit too long and had to retire to my quarters before possibly returning later.

Shooing away way too many desperate boys (none of them being my Marcus ('༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ') ） who asked me to dance quite persistently, it being especially hard to push away old and fat Mr O'Donnell who kept on 'bumping' into me. Of course I handled like my mum would have told me, as a lady. I fluttered my eyelashes, bit my lip, looked down on the floor blushing while saying, 'Later.' Though not typically handsome, Mr O'Donnell was rich. Filthy rich. And dying. Play hard to get and you might marry him when you're 18 and cash in a large cheque a day before your next birthday.

I ran up to my room and, pressing a few buttons here and there, I set up a new doggy playground set up for a fluffy goddess. Quickly emailing Banksy to design something for her 'room' - wait, was it a he? Meh. Androgynousness was is style.

I scrolled through my 3rd phone (the one for doing nothing on) when an email popped up from Maria. Ahhhhh finally. In there were a few a photos which were pretty ok to be honest. I mean, I and D-A-N were looking magnificently beautiful but the editing was simply not there but I guess it would have to do.

I went onto to Instagram... woah, my selfie had only gotten a billion likes. I was glad that no one other than me could tell how many likes I had anymore. Oh my goodness I was so #insecure. Definitely going to open up to Marcus about this, I thought, taking a screenshot of the number of likes and hitting send.

Eliizabethany: I wouldn't normally share this since it makes me self conscious, but I kinda wanted to talk about my insecurities to someone.

Marcus: Ur a GOD 👏 DAMN 👏 KWEEN 👏 babe. Don't let anyone let you think otherwise.

Oh my goodness he was sooo kind and considerate!

Eliizabethany: Thx, that means so much. Btw, was thinking of posting but I'm not sure about it :(... What would I even capture it?

I sent him the photos that Maria took, shocked by how open I was to Marcus. This truly must be what love feels like.

Marcus instantly hearted the image. He was too sweet to be true.

Marcus: Yes grrrlfriend, do it!

OH MY FREAKING WORD. He had just called me his girlfriend. Oh my goodness I feel like I'm getting butterflies in my legs. (I don't get my butterflies in my stomach because my stomach's way too small to fit them but my legs are long and luscious enough).

Eliizabethany: Do you want to go shopping tmr?

Marcus: YAS!

Ahhhhhhhh my heart.

Eliizabethany: Goodnight sweetie, I'll be dreaming of you ;)

Marcus: Good night.