Ah, Los Angeles. A wonderful city where everyone can meet their idol, where everyone smiles and spends time watching movies and TV series in the evenings.

Well, that's what tourists and rich people who live in rich areas like Hollywood say about it. It works for them, but not for you and Cliff. You are forced to live in a small van on the outskirts of the city, unable to afford a nicer house because the prices for literally everything are too high. Although, you don't know a single reason to complain. The two of you create a chic duo of optimists, relaxed about your own affairs.

You were happy to just get home before him and cook dinner from the few products you had. Brandy met you at the door, barking happily. Secretly from Cliff, you gave the dog some pieces of meat and began to rest.

Usually in the evening, "FBI" began, so you had something to do until Cliff returned. Which is what you were doing, scratching Brandy, who you had just taken for a walk, with your feet comfortably propped up on the coffee table in front of you, and looking intently at Rick Dalton, your man's friend on the screen.

The familiar sound of keys turning made you lower your feet off the table and look at the door, which opened a second later to reveal Cliff, who sighed tiredly before walking in and smiling at the two of you. Brandy practically fell on him, greeting her owner, and he caught her in his arms, laughing cheerfully.

“Hey-hey, easy! I missed you too,” you heard Cliff say as the dog happily licked his face.