Ren opened the door to his apartment and stopped dead in the doorway.
The space gleamed under the cheap overhead bulb. Every trace of dust had been wiped from the TV screen, leaving it shining like black glass. The loveseat sat perfectly squared, cushions plumped and aligned.
His scattered action figures had been gathered, slotted back into their cardboard box, and the box pushed flush against the wall with military neatness.
The framed photo on the wall caught his eye, him, Izzy, and Bishop, all smiling. Izzy’s cutout had been removed. Her separate picture now rested propped on top of the action figure box.
Ren crossed the room in three strides, fingers brushing the glossy print before he pressed it firmly back into the frame, sliding it home with a soft click.
The bed was made. Fresh sheets, corners tucked tight.
『Mila came by. 』
He dropped onto the edge of the mattress. His bag slid off his shoulder and thumped to the floor. Phone out, thumb already scrolling.
Notifications flooded the screen: [User1738, @pussy-smoker1 and 140,650 others followed you. Follow back and connect.]
A short huff of laughter escaped him as he fell back onto the pillows. His head turned and froze.
Clothes lay scattered across the floor near the bed: a short skirt, a cropped top twisted beside it, delicate underwear hooked on the edge of the laundry basket. A familiar backpack leaned against the wall.
『She’s still here. 』
Ren sat up fast, spine snapping straight. Then the memory clicked, the clothes from the stream, the messy pile he’d left. The room was spotless now. Which meant Camilla had touched everything. Including the Glitch costume. He lunged off the bed toward the laundry basket, heart kicking. Everything was neatly inside. The costume folded on top.
He exhaled, long and slow, shoulders dropping.
The bathroom door clicked open.
Camilla stepped out in a cloud of steam. Her blue hair hung wet, strands clinging to her cheeks. A white towel was wrapped tight around her body, barely clearing the tops of her thighs.
The three sharp Chinese characters of her tattoo peeked just above the towel’s edge, inked skin still glistening with moisture.
"Thought you left," Ren said, trying to play it casual while moving too quick, grabbing his phone and tilting the screen away from her.
"Nah." Camilla unwrapped the towel with zero hesitation and let it drop. It pooled at her feet in a damp heap. She stood completely unbothered, water beads tracing slow paths down the curve of her spine and over the swell of her hips. "Had a meeting. Needed to clean up. This place was close."
"Right." Ren killed the screen, eyes fully on her. "Bishop just dropped me off, actually."
"How is he?" She sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. She reached for her underwear, fabric whispering as she pulled it up her legs.
"He’s good." Ren’s gaze followed the motion. "Went to go meet Sophie."
"Sophie." Camilla paused with the underwear halfway up her thighs, smooth skin flexing. She stood in one fluid motion, rolling the fabric the rest of the way up over her hips with a snap. "Wait, that’s the mean girlfriend, right? The one you told me about?"
"Yeah. They’re working it out."
"Mmm." She reached behind her back for her bra, fastening it with practiced fingers, the strap digging gently into her shoulders.
"How was school?" Ren asked, voice slightly rougher.
"Didn’t have class today." She bent for her makeup kit. "Went to meet an agent. Supposedly connected to Titan Tech."
"How’d it go?"
She dug through the bag, brushes clinking. "Same as always."
"Their loss if they pass on you," Ren said.
Camilla glanced over her shoulder at him, a small, crooked smile tugging at her lips. Then she bent again, retrieving her skirt from the far end of the bed.
Ren didn’t love that she kept chasing the industry. But she wasn’t Izzy. He couldn’t just say what he felt. She was a college girl with her own momentum, and he was simply the place that was close.
"You going to make time for the Lady Vega presentation?" he asked.
"Got another agent meeting, but I’ll try." Fully dressed now, she adjusted the hem of her skirt. "You know I’m a Storm Girl girl, though."
"Come on, let’s not start that."
Ren stood, phone still in hand.
"Ren." Camilla’s voice dropped lower as she moved toward the door, hips swaying once. "There’s actually something I wanted to—"
His phone rang. The die-with-a-smile ringtone cut sharp through the room, the one reserved for Izzy.
"Hold on, let me grab this." He answered instantly.
A wide smile split his face. Camilla watched him, expression unreadable, as she bent to tug on her boots, leather sliding over her calves.
『 』
"I wouldn’t forget," Ren said into the phone, grin widening. "Just tell me what to bring."
He laughed, the sound bright and easy, filling the small apartment.
"And there’s something going on that I need your advice about," Izzy’s voice carried through the speaker.
"It’s okay, Z. We’ll talk when we meet up." A beat. "Okay. Bye."
Camilla stood by the open door, face still blank.
"Yeah, Mila." Ren turned back to her. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
"Nothing important." She stepped out, leaving the door wide open behind her like always. "I won’t make it back for the Lady Vega thing."
Ren stood up. Twenty dollars sat folded neatly on the nightstand.
『Thanks... But I can support myself now. 』
He walked over and closed the door, the latch catching with a soft metallic snap that sealed the apartment in sudden stillness. He stood there a moment.
Then he dropped into the loveseat. Phone out, thumb already swiping up. The screen lit his face.
『Two hundred fifty messages. Okay. Which one of these is even worth opening. 』
He scrolled fast, thumb flicking in short, impatient strokes. Notifications blurred past, most of them noise, desperate emojis, broken English pitches, and bot accounts. His eyes narrowed, hunting.
[@Super-Agent5: You left me on read. I’ll take it as a positive, beats unread. Spent a full day thinking about your career, Glitch, and I’ve got real plans for you. Heads up, I’m going to keep messaging whether you reply or not.]
『Save your energy, man. 』
Ren’s thumb hovered, then flicked the message aside.
A new notification slid in from @TheVillainEater. He ignored it and kept scrolling. Then another ping dropped hard.
[@TheVillainEater donated $3,000]
Ren’s thumb froze mid-swipe. His eyes widened a fraction. He tapped straight into his banking app, heart kicking once against his ribs.
[Account Balance: $3,445]
『This is real. And it all came from one broadcast. 』
He exhaled sharply through his nose and tapped back into the inbox. The message from @TheVillainEater waited at the top. He opened it.
A photo filled the screen: a woman in her early thirties, fully nude, squatting low with knees spread wide. Harsh bathroom lighting cast sharp shadows under her breasts and between her thighs. Everything exposed.
[I’ve seen the headlines. I’ve seen the clips. And now I can’t stop wondering what you’re like when the cameras aren’t rolling. Name your price.]
Ren stared for half a second, lips parting slightly. Then his thumb jabbed the back button hard, closing the image like it burned.
『Are people seriously this far gone? 』
He killed the screen. The phone went dark in his hand. Two heartbeats later, he turned it back on, the glow flaring across his face again. His free hand dragged through his hair.
『Okay. What am I even wearing tonight. Do I dress up for Izzy’s place or is that trying too hard. It’s a study thing. It’s not a thing. Is it a thing? 』
He exhaled through his teeth. His leg bounced once, heel tapping the floor in a rapid rhythm.
『Four hours. I have four hours to figure this out. 』
Ren pushed up from the loveseat, phone still in hand. The cushions slowly rose behind him as he crossed to the closet.
He yanked the closet door open, the hinge giving a low metallic whine, and started sliding hangers aside one by one.