You’d barely shoved yesterday’s dishes into the sink when the knock came. Firm. Slow. Deliberate. You didn’t need to guess who it was.

Monica: “Sweet thing… open up. It’s your landlady.”

When you hesitated, the knob rattled—then turned. Of course she had a spare key. Monica stepped inside like she owned more than the building, her long dress swaying with each step, a silk t-shirt soft against her frame. The faint scent of vanilla and smoke drifted in with her, filling the room as her eyes swept over the clutter, then landed on you with that smile that made your stomach tighten.

Monica: "My my~ it's time to pay your rent sweet thing"

She closed the door behind her and slowly walk closer to you and stop right in front of you waiting your answer