Growing up, Madeline felt like her father’s personal Barbie doll.

Her outfits were always whatever he found in the latest kid’s fashion magazine. She was often squeezed into expensive skirts and tights with zero thought for comfort. Any form of color experimentation—like neons or bright orange—was met with a derisive sniff. And, of course, dressing like a Hot Topic model was the ultimate sin.

With her newfound freedom, her wardrobe became a grungy, casual mess. Not a single pair of jeans was unripped. She had enough black shirts for a full load and had experimented with the entire highlighter spectrum. But, these days, that rebellious wardrobe was mixed with some fashionable staple items and plenty of jogging pants. And the latter was what she was wearing today. Above that was a vintage informational poster with a macabre subject.

Madd nodded first to Joy and then to the Pokemon at her side. The OCD shoe thing was met with a brief flash of worry before remembering that it meant she’d be cleaning less. “Hopefully, the pleasure ends up being mine.” This girl didn’t stink, at least. The redhead sighed, running fingers through her hair. “I’ve met some special people today.” That’s what she got for not jacking up prices.

Instead of sitting down, Madd moved to the fridge. From within it, she pulled out three fun-sized water bottles. The first of which she tossed to the Obstagoon. He caught it in one mitten-sized paw. “GOON!” Red eyes shifted to sight the Happiny, a snicker emerging as he turned to the TV. The other bottles were laid in front of Joy.

“I love the outfit. I always thought black was too cool to be wasted at funerals.” Amber eyes lifted to the cyan hair. “Not sure I could handle that hair though.” A few weeks with it at her mid-back had been more than enough to turn her off the Rapunzel idea.

No one had a blade out. Fingers were out of noses. Madeline would call that win in her book. This woman didn’t seem too perfect either. So, the nervousness slowly faded into only a thin veneer of wariness. The question coaxed out a groan from within Madd’s barrel chest. Her head dropped back briefly, suddenly boneless. “Special with a capital S. I know it takes all sorts, but geeze.” At least no one had been openly misogynistic or homophobic.

Realizing her own throat was getting kind of raw—due to all this interviewing--Madd picked up one of the bottles for herself. Typically, she scoffed at the idea of fancy water. It was a scam. Just like the brand-name cereals and products, her parents lavished on. But this case was free. A clumsy customer almost put their foot through it, meaning it was up for grabs. “Definitely up there for me. Effortless. Slimming. Edgy.” It was also the color most rock shirts came in. Which sucked sometimes.

“Yeah. I like my beauty sleep too much.” Her lips spread in a wide grin. “Even if doesn’t do much.” She still looked like a gorilla with an 80s teen movie star glued on. “Once I aged out, my hair went pixie.” Through the prism of the bottle in her hand, Madeline watched the Happiny go about its investigation. “?” The redhead turned to the Obstagoon behind her with a brow raised. He didn’t look any less confused than she did.

But Madd kind of understood. When you were small and pink, everything probably looked like a threat. Even Aquafina. “No need to worry about it, Aca.” The redhead reassured the fairy-type with a smile. “No roofies.” She switched her bottle for the blue-haired woman’s. She then cracked it open and took a swig. “Watch.”

Wiping her lips clean with a napkin, surprisingly prim in doing so, Madeline glanced at her list of questions. “Mind telling me why you two are looking for a new place?” In a place like this, it could be practically anything. A god could have dropped on their house.

In a way, the Happiny reminded her of her baby cousin. Or, well, she would if that paranoia came with a side of self-loathing and depreciation. This might explain why the ginger found the implications more cute than offensive. Or, that was just the thing’s cute charm at work. The redhead reciprocated the nod with one of her own, winking at Johanna in the process. Even if the drugging her trainer thing made zero sense


What would she do with that anyway? Cut out her kidney and sell it to the highest bidder? Split the proceeds of selling her body to science? The landlord had already done a credit check. Madd would have to be brain-dead to pull a stunt like that. But that wasn’t important. She had a roommate to find. When Johanna began to speak, Madeline would set her water down on a coaster. Its descent would be cushioned with a pinky, a strange habit in this neighborhood.


The redhead listened to her speak without comment. Her response did not come immediately, a demonstration of her usual thoughtfulness. “There are a lot of desperate people out there.” Madd admitted with a sigh. Knowing half of her old cohorts stole out of necessity somehow made her feel worse. “But this place is never really empty. Mabel doesn’t get out much anymore.” The destroyed roads made her little walker outings tougher. The garden and patio had benefited from the isolation. “She’s pretty cool as far as seniors go—no problem with smoking or booze. As long as nobody's sloppy.” She’d woken up after her 23rd birthday to an invite to AA under her door.


“Only thing that sucks is the curfew.” Somehow—even though Mabel was half deaf—she could hear a footfall a county over at 1 AM.