The Billionaire's Bridal Chase

EP 06: Puppet Boy

I've read this somewhere before.

That scene in a young adult fiction where two people, person A with a secret crush on person B, get drunk together and then person B becomes flirty despite not having any feelings for person A. Person B's going to kiss him, and even when person A doesn't want to take advantage of the situation, because of his, ahem, rapidly beating heart, and the fact that it's person A's ultimate love interest, person A will fall for the bait, letting person B take over...

Ah, it's nowhere near that tonight.

"Get off me, you heavy pig," I complained and pushed her off, but she wouldn't budge. How come she's still strong in this state?

Caly scoffs in arrogance and leans closer only to say, "Your perfume really sucks."

Annoyed, I decided to resort to torture. I lifted both my hands and targeted her waist. Here it goes.

"Ah! Stop! Tickling!" she screams as she falls back to her side, laughing her head off. I only intended to get her off me, but I found myself going on this little torment.

Her cackles kind of hurt my ear. However, she looks very funny squirming on the bed while having tears brimming on the corners of her eyes, giggling, and crying at the same time.

What a mess she is.

I hovered over her and continued tickling her, not forgetting to hold her legs down with my other leg since she was flailing them everywhere. If I'm not careful, I might get kicked in the crotch.

"Stop! I'll kill-haha-you!" she warned between laughter, trying to catch my face, but ended up flapping her hands here and there, and I just avoided them with all my might.

"Don't wanna," I muttered, smirking, moving my fingers more aggressively.

She's like a worm caught under a rock. I can't help but chuckle.

"I'll crush you!"

Hmm? Yeah, that doesn't sound impossible.

I shrugged, still relishing the sight. "Crush me later, then."

It wasn't long before my fingers started to feel numb. She begged me for the last time, and I did stop for the sake of resting my hand. She sprawled on the futon and panted hard, as if she had just completed a strenuous activity.

I better prepare myself to get crushed now, huh?

About to leave her, I was brought to a halt when her soft sobs reached my ears. Gently, I brushed the strands of hair covering her flushed face. My mouth parted in surprise. She's really crying.

What? What did I do? Is she really going to cry because I tickled her?

Tsk. She teased me first.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, wiping her glistening cheeks with the blanket I was supposed to bring to her earlier.

I regret it when she just cried harder. Good grief. She's like a kid when given attention while crying. I want to go back to sleeping. Her bed is comfortable, too, unlike the sofa.

I reached for her hand and folded her fingers, helping her turn it into a fist. She opens her eyes slightly as she sobbed, curious at what I am doing. I only rolled my eyes and leaned closer to her fist, then in a dull voice I said, "Stop crying and crush me as you said, pig witch."

She really stopped crying. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the worst. Here she comes.

"..."

Nothing comes in contact. Should I wait longer?

"..."

Still none. Did she fall asleep?

I opened my eyes and was met with a big, round pair of eyes staring at me in a manner I couldn't perceive. However, I can tell, she looks like a cat when its pupils are dilated.

We just locked gazes, in that position, and even though the light isn't that bright, even though tucking my hair behind my ears isn't enough, I can see her clearly.

The aftermath of her crying, and how she lowered her gaze from my eyes to my lips, then her subtle gulp. I showed no signs of leaving my post. I thought I was waiting for some sort of response, but I realized that was not the case.

Syncing with her, I gulped the lump I felt in my throat.

What's with her? She's not exactly my type.

She's rowdy, weird, shameless - in short, annoying. What would I like about her? She's effortlessly pretty, I'd give that to her. But what's beyond that face that's easy on the eye?

"You," she began in a small voice, looking away as if embarrassed. I just stared at her reddening ear. "You can sleep here if you want to."

"Do you still want to kiss?" was the phrase begging to slip past my mouth, but I shook it off and laid beside her without a noise.

Her back was facing me, so I don't know what expression she has on her face right now.

But I don't have to, right? It might be true that I came to like her, be that as it may, it's not like I'm going to pamper her in any way. The situation doesn't change.

After heaving a deep sigh, I closed my eyes and fell asleep without much trouble.

The next day, the pig had a bad hangover.

And as heartless as it sounds, I still scolded her for her drinking habits that gave the innocent ones inconvenience. I'm referring to Erin and I.

I didn't quit on it even until she started crying and threatening me again.

Yeah. The events that night weren't brought up. I'm not sure if she remembers, but that doesn't matter. I prefer if she doesn't speak about it.

It was raining hard when Sunday came. The news said there was a low-level typhoon. Kind of a hassle, but we still went to buy groceries. After all that, we got wet on the way to the parking lot because Caly decided to forget to bring an umbrella that very day, when she religiously brought one every day during the dry days.

Today is Monday, and I caught a cold.

Aside from being physically sensitive, the fact that I yelled at her nonstop upon arriving home probably contributed a huge part to my state right now. It's infuriating how I can't fully put the blame on her.

"Damn, dude. You're burning up," Caly commented after feeling my forehead. "Did you take your meds yet?"

I kept my eyes closed as I replied, "Yeah."

"Is the blanket okay?"

"Hmm."

"Do you need socks-"

I groaned, cutting her off. "Don't talk to me. My head hurts." It's obvious I don't want to talk. Is she pushing me over the edge?

"Al~right. I'm off. Ah- I sliced up some fruits. Get'em in the fridge if you want~" was what I heard last before I heard the door of her room shut close.

Ugh, I can't breathe.

I groped about the coziness, blindly searching for the cold rub ointment. I sighed in relief when I felt it. I don't really want to get up to look for it.

I immediately popped the lid off and dipped my finger in the jelly-like ointment, then applied a bit on the tip of my nose, temples, and throat.

As I rub it on my chest, I recall what has happened today so far.

Around 6AM, Caly woke me up to go to the theater, as usual, and found out I am sick. She cooked breakfast and gave me medicine. Afterward, she suggested I move to her futon mattress, so I did. Highly likely, she thinks it's her fault, so she's taking responsibility. Naturally, I'm left at her place.

I slept all day and only stirred when I heard the voice of the pig again.

"...You didn't eat?" she asks as she lands her palm on my forehead. I didn't answer.

"You didn't take your meds?" she asks again minutes later. I gave no response for the second time.

Isn't it obvious? Does she really need to ask? Ugh, thinking about this hurts my head.

"Open your mouth."

No.

"Stingy asshole."

My eyes shoot open."Wha-mph!"

Caly didn't hold back her laughter while I can only glare at her as I fix the the position of the digital thermometer she just thrusted in my mouth.

"You're like an i***t," she comments, and before I could retort, she has stormed off the room. That crazy girl. Just spewing whatever comes to her mind without brakes.

The thermometer beeped. Thirty-eight point two degrees Celsius. Whatever. I'll go sleep again tonight until... Eh? I just noticed that the light wasn't coming from the LED lamp in her room. It's from the window. It's still a little too bright outside.

"How did it go?" enters Caly, bringing a tray with porridge and the sliced fruits she had been talking about earlier.

"What time is it?" I asked, my voice groggy.

"Lunch time," she simply answers and puts the tray on the bed table she probably carried inside when I was asleep.

My brows met, and she probably read that gesture, so she spoke again. "I had a hunch you're not going to eat, so I went home early to make sure you will eat."

The wrinkles between my brows became more visible. “Why would you do that?"

She looked weirded out by my response. Nevertheless, she should know I'm more weirded out by her. She's not the type to do something like this, is she?

"Then, you won't die?" she answers, unsure. "Whatever. What's your temperature?"

Hmm. Right. She sounded guilty earlier. It's probably that. I'm overthinking this.

"Thirty-eight."

"Okay." She pulls the chair from her desk and sits facing me. She points at the tray, saying, "You eat these. Drink this. Then you can sleep here."

I had to crane my neck to see her. "Why don't you just buy a bed?" I complained.

"Why? Do you think I'm looming over you? Do you think you're about to be stepped on?"

I'm not in the mood for this.

Since I was feeling the hunger creeping in, I followed her instructions and swallowed everything while she watched me. Meanwhile, I ignored her like she didn't exist in the room. I immediately went back to sleeping for hours, only to be revived once again by the pig's interference.

"Stop it," I murmured, feeling the cool, damp towel on my forehead. "Cut it out." I'll get better without these stuffs.

"Remove it, and I'll bother you more."

I sighed and threw the towel in her direction, anyway. Wishing it had hit her face.

"Just leave me alone... I can get better without anything, anyone..." It has always been that way for me since I was little. I'm sure there's not much difference now.

Silence blankets the atmosphere for a bit before Caly breaks it with a snort. "What's that? You're getting emotional."

I hissed when I felt a weight dip on the bed. I didn't have to open my eyes to see. I know it's the pig lying beside me again. Just like that night.

Clicking my tongue, I announced afterward, "I'm going to push you off the futon in three."

"What? This is my futon."

"Who cares, I'm the one inside. Two."

"Aren't you being too much?"

"Nah. One."

"This is normal for friends."

I looked at her with half-lidded eyes. I think I rubbed the cold rub ointment near them, so it stings a grain.

"Are we friends?" I meant to ask that in a sarcastic manner, but it came out transparent to what I felt. Genuine curiosity.

Caly grins. "Of course."

I can't help but chuckle as I shift my gaze forward. "You think so?"

"Yep."

Friends, huh. Well, I guess calling us friends is alright. Otherwise, our tag will be "Broke employer under the care of my employee", which is rather awkward and, not to mention, unseemly - although that's the situation nearest to truth.

"Okay," I whispered. "So, we're friends."

"Aren't you too gullible?" she asked, her tone tinged with obvious concern.

"Should I push you off after all?"

"Nah~" She sneakily urges me to move inside more by lying on her back. Still and all irked, I did accommodate her existence.

“We’re friends~ Oh, that gave me chills."

Ditto.

Basking in the granted silence, I was about to drift asleep when the pig witch opens her little and unguarded lips yet again to babble stupid-

"How long have you been writing?"

-s**t.

Why is she suddenly asking me this? I just want to get some sleep.

"Since I was ten."

"Really?" exclaimed her. "That's crazy. I was only punching bullies at that age."

... I'm sure she's got a crazier childhood.

"Do you know why, without doubt, I trusted you to help me get that role?"

Beats me. I'm not even interested in knowing. Let me sleep.

I didn't answer, hoping she gets the hint that I'm not letting her squeeze herself on the futon to chit-chat. That being said, she proceeds to be the pig that she is.

"I've been reading your stories."

"That so."

"Since your debut as a writer."

Debut... My debut... My eyes snapped open. "Five years ago?" I blurted out in shock.

"Five years ago," she verified. "Puppet Boy, was it? Your debut work."

"Yeah," I stuttered. I can't believe she knew about that. I deleted it on my website a year after my debut because...

She snorted. "It's such a flop."

"You tell me about it," I sighed and shut my eyelids again. Ah, memories.

I was fifteen when I published my first book, Puppet Boy. I was the most excited, of course. I've never felt any excitement similar to that time when I held my first hard copy. Albeit, it didn't get enough attention. It got almost no attention at all, to say. Bookstores sent the copies back to the publisher. I was demoralized that I deleted it online as well. I published my second story online a year later, My Sweet Sasin, and it's where I gained a bit of popularity. Yet even then, I sniffed no trace of my debut work, even online, as if it never existed in the first place.

That's why it's a shocker she knows about it.

"I liked that story, though."

I lightly scratched my cheek in embarrassment. "What did you like about it?" I asked in a low voice.

"The characters, the plot... It was what life really is."

True. The fact that I didn't include any magical elements in the story is probably why it didn't fly off the children's shelves.

The fact that the story resonated a lot to my life.

"And reading it saved me in a way..."

I opened one of my eyes and sneakily peeked at her. She's got her gaze trained on the ceiling, her palms under her head, looking chill.

Saved her? That makes me feel somewhat warm. I can't help but let my smile show.

I had never heard anything from anyone about that book. Not even from my father. If Raze was there, he would've read it for me, but he wasn't until I was eighteen that I had already accepted things the way they are. Like I never wrote it, never made it to a publishing company. I thought that was it, but hearing her thoughts about it, I realized I was waiting for this.

All this time, I was wanting someone to feel with me.

All this time... I feel like I'm about to cry.

Without warning, she lightly turns her head to me, unintentionally catching me trying to get a glimpse of her. I immediately opened my other eye, trashed the little curve on my lips, and maintained contact with her.

"I'm sure I wasn't the only one who appreciated the story you wanted to share to the world..."

My mind can barely formulate a train of words to reply, let alone part my mouth.

Caly smiled, and my heart skipping a beat became its official afterthought.

"So, how about you bring it back-"

"No," I answered speedily, not letting her finish. I knew she was getting into that. Ah, my tears were pushed back.

Her face crumpled. "After all I've said?!"

I covered her face with my hand. "Give it up. I'll never bring it back to my website," I declared in a flat voice. There's no way I'll post it again. Just thinking about it makes me uncomfortable.

She slaps my hand off her visage.

"Do you have a soft copy, then?"

I shook my head.

"What if I look into your laptop?"

"I deleted it."

"No way. I'll look into your laptop."

"Feel free to waste your time, then."

And the pig basically went on about it all night till I dozed off.

The next day, I was feeling a bit better, but I still didn't go with her. Nothing to do, I decided to continue writing the playscript. When she came home, she got a takeout from the fast-food restaurant that I really like. Bet she uncovered that from the background check she did on me.

"Look. I bought everything you like~"

I gave her an exasperated look. "What's the catch?"

"It's a bribe~"

I rolled my eyes.

Isn't she frustrating? But, how do I put this? I'm seeing her in a little better light now.

"What? What are you smiling for?" she asked, leaning over the doorway of her room where I am inside, writing.

I didn't answer and threw a paperback in her direction, which she caught between her hands effortlessly. Her jaw dropped upon scanning the cover.

"I ruined that copy, so it's just half of the book. I'll give you the other half next time."