There was something oddly poetic about watching a human spiral into melancholy. Jace had been standing there for what felt like hours, lost in his gloomy thoughts. I perched quietly nearby, pretending not to watch — but I was watching. I am always watching.
Eventually, he stirred. The ticking clock must've started biting on his nerves because he finally sat up and muttered something about needing music.
Good. Let the mission begin.
The first step was to put on some good ambient music — and when he thought about ambient, he meant epic music, of course. There was no in-between.
He turned on the TV, grabbed the remote, and opened YT. His fingers danced over the remote as he searched for his favorite playlist. "Vaillant Soldier" — that was the name he'd chosen for his every mission. He really had a flair for being theatrical. The heroic tunes filled the room, echoing off the walls like some war cry from heaven.
Dramatic? Yes. But not entirely unearned.
As the music swelled, I watched from my usual throne — the kitchen table — as he passed by. His phone lit up with news messages. His friends again, trying to lure him out of his bubble. And like always, his first instinct was to turn the screen face down — out of sight, out of mind. But this time, something made him pause. He flipped it back over, and the familiar picture of all of them popped up next to the message preview. They looked absolutely ridiculous in that selfie — faces scrunched, mouths open, mid-laugh. He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Idiots," he muttered affectionately, before putting it as it was.
Now, time for step two of his mission: dinner. His evening routine never changed. Making dinner required getting into a certain mindset — a focused, battle-ready mindset. His specialty? Pasta, and two big, old steaks. That's how a soldier fueled up. His words not mine.
As he prepped in the kitchen, slicing garlic with precision, I leaped gracefully onto the table beside his phone, laying there, peaceful. Too peaceful. Jace narrowed his eyes, immediately suspicious.
The phone buzzed again. Again, And again. They were relentless.
Good.
He needed this. He needed them. But like many humans, he needed a little divine intervention.
Jace turned his head, curious who was calling. Without surprise, it was them again. He sighed, walking over to silence the vibration before it shook itself off the table.
But before he could reach it, with all the grace of a troublemaking furball, I decided to give this little intervention and casually extended a paw and pushed.
The phone hit the floor with a sickening smack, screen down, kissing the ground like it had been longing for it.
"No, no, no, no, nooo! Please, no—"
But yes. It was too late. His precious iPhone X was now making sweet, unwanted love to the cold floor. And me? I was looking very proud of himself, tail flicking in satisfaction.
Mission accomplished.
Time to retreat.
JACE'S POV
From the floor, a muffled voice: "Chicken? Helloooo? Are you there, man?" Concerned. Familiar.
Only one person could call me that.
I sighed, both amused and annoyed. "Yeah, man, I'm here. Just… wait a sec. You're kind of on the floor now."
"Why am I on the floor?! Are you okay, Chicken??" Shot Elliot back, alarmed.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just—my cat pushed my phone. On the floor. On you."
I dried my hands quickly, abandoning my dinner mission, and bent down to retrieve the phone.
"Shiiit!" I exclaimed at the state of my phone.
"Okay, that's not nice, dude. I have only gained a few kilos since the last time you saw me. Do you really think I'm that fat, babe?" Elliot's voice teased, followed by a rustling sound — probably him lifting his shirt.
"You see these abs? You're really hurting my feelings right now."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You're such an idiot."
But deep down — well, not even that deep — I was happy. Talking to Elliot always felt like sunshine after rain. Elliot had this rare ability to make any situation lighter, funnier, better. It didn't matter how dumb the topic was — Elliot would add something even dumber, making it hilarious. He was, undeniably, one of my favorite people on this earth.
"Okay, man," Elliot continued, "First things first. I need to see your cat. You never wanted one. I need to see the cuteness you're living with and hiding from me. Second — not cool to call me 'shiiit,' okay?" He put on his best offended voice, like an scandalized lady in a period drama.
"Your drama queen ass missed me, you know that?"
"Stop it, Daddy."
"You're so dum— Wait—" I blinked, pausing. "Did you… did you just call me Daddy?"
"Wait… I mean… oh—"
"You literally called me Daddy. Sweet Jesus, Elliot. What did you do?…You threw the bad news right at my face, right now. That's it. Did you pay the rent, Elliot?"
"Why would you ask that now? Don't hit me with bad vibes when we just reunited, Chicken. Don't break the mood, man. Come one"
"You're the one who called me Daddy! You've broken the mood already, Elliot!"
"Oh… Okay."
"Yeah. Oh. Now answer."
"Don't you want to tell me about your day instead? I mean—"
"Don't." I pinched the bridge of my nose, eyes closed. "Answer. The question."
"I did… not. Sadly. I lost my job, Jace."
"Oh. Really? Damn… I'm sorry, man. How?"
"Well, you know Sara, my manager? She kind of… became my confidant. I was feeling alone, and she was… you know… giving me food, being nice to me…"
"And then she ate you alive."
"No! We had a relationship. I think. I wanted to tell you about her, but I didn't want it to sound like one of those, 'If you were there, maybe I wouldn't have—' kind of thing, but maybe…"
"I know it wouldn't and I'm sorry I isolated myself, Lil Chick but you know why."
"Yeah, I know. It's been rough… but hey, you answered me. No more hiding. I've been patient enough. That's over."
I chuckled, finally relaxing. "Well, technically it was Buddy answering you and honestly I just hope the girl I'm seeing tonight won't be this clingy."
"You don't know clingy yet, Chicken."
"I live with you, Elliot."
"And I can tell you… you still don't know clingy. Yet."
I gave him a look — part amusement, part fear. "So, what's her name?" continue Elliot.
"Don't know yet, but I saved her number under it."
"Damn! That's some improvement right there. She must be cute."
"Well, I need comfort too, right?" We smirked at each other.
I leaned into the camera in an exaggerated way and add, "Except me, I don't let cougars trap me. So, what happened, Chick?" i asked while sinking into the sofa, ready.
"Come on. Spill. I know you, and I know you messed up. Big time."
"Grab some tea," Elliot said, dead serious. "Because I fucked up real hard. You can judge me. I deserve it. I could've avoided all of it… for me, and for her."
My expression softened. "All ears, babe. Tell me."
I already knew Elliot had probably been dragged into another mess — probably by an overbearing cougar trying to control him, again. But I was ready to listen. Like always.