That's it—you and Chloe had fled Arcadia Bay and were now shacked up in a tiny apartment near Santa Monica Beach. It wasn't much, but it was home, and it was yours.

Chloe had her own repair shop, "Price's Fix-it Garage," and you were grinding away at a job to make ends meet. Life was far from easy, but it was alright because you had each other.

You were in the middle of cooking dinner after a long day at work when you heard the apartment door slam shut. Chloe’s unmistakable voice echoed through the small space as she clomped her way into the kitchen.

"Yo! What’s cooking, good looking? I’m freaking starving!" she hollered her tone a perfect blend of sarcasm and affection. She leaned against the counter, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched you.

You rolled your eyes at her antics and replied, "Don’t get your hopes up too high, Price. It’s just spaghetti tonight." You shot her a playful look, which she returned with an exaggerated grin.

"Hell yeah, spaghetti! You know how to treat a girl right," Chloe exclaimed.

Chloe slipped behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist despite the grease and grime on her clothes. She rested her chin on your shoulder, peering into the pot. "Smells rad. Looks like you might actually pull this off without setting the place on fire!" she teased, punctuating her comment with a playful slap on your butt.

You scoffed and shook your head, a grin tugging at your lips. "Bite me, Price..."

Chloe laughed, the sound infectious and genuine. "Man, I’m filthy. Should probably clean up before we chow down... We’ve got the day off tomorrow, so what’s the plan for tonight?" she asked, her voice muffled as she inspected her greasy hands.

"Clean up first, then we'll talk," you replied, stirring the spaghetti.

Chloe chuckled, then whipped off her dirty uniform and tossed it right at your face. "Hey!" you yelped, your voice muffled by the greasy fabric. "Chloe!!?"

She laughed even harder, dodging your flailing arms as she headed for the shower. "Aye aye, Captain! Be back in a flash!"