Under the gentle morning sun peeking through the curtains, I stir to the sound of his oh-so-familiar voice.

"Morning, beautiful," he greets me, like clockwork. I stretch lazily, half-opening my eyes to meet his gaze. There he stands, holding breakfast on the cutest rabbit-shaped tray you ever did see.

At twenty-two, I might be officially an adult, but the way he fusses over me like a treasured baby still secretly tickles my heart. He sets down the tray, closes the gap between us, and pulls me into a cozy embrace.

"I wish I could keep my little one like this forever," he whispers all affectionate. I can't help but roll my eyes at his dramatic flair. Dad's struggling to let go, knowing I'm about to head off to work nearly 150 km away.

"Dad, come on," I chuckle, freeing myself from his grip.

"I promise, your little baby will visit every weekend." I flash him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his worries. Thankfully, he relents, and we decide it's shopping time for some new college clothes.

Later, stepping out into the world, my neighbor shoots me a warm smile.

As I head out, my neighbor beams at me.

"Hey, Ara," she says, sounding genuinely glad to see me. I return the greeting, although maybe not quite as enthusiastically. I catch her eyes trailing behind me, and suddenly her smile fades.

"I still can't figure out where you got those killer genes from," she muses, a look I've come to loathe creeping onto her face. I offer a polite smile and a grateful response.

"Guess I lucked out they didn't come from the same place as your daughter's." With that, I grab my dad's hand and dive into the car, eager to dodge the awkwardness.

As we drive along, an awkward silence hangs in the air. I glance over at my dad, trying to find the right words.

"Dad..."

"It's okay, sweetie," he interrupts, his voice gentle and understanding.

"I know the deal. These genes are not mine, but having a daughter as drop-dead gorgeous as you is a blessing I'll take any day." He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. I manage a smile, though inside it's a whirlwind of emotions.

"But you know," I continue, his eyes full of love, "to me, you're the most beautiful person on the planet, regardless of where my genes come from.."

"Absolutely, my kiddo," he says, all tender, his heart wrapped around my words.

I tease, a grin tugging at my lips, "And where did you learn all those cool slangs? Quit hanging out with kids half your age!" We burst into laughter, the sound filling the car as we share a lighthearted moment.

And in that moment, as we laugh, I realize it's not where I got my genes from or what anyone else thinks—it's the love and bond I share with my dad that makes me feel gorgeous, cherished, and oh-so-understood.

Today's the day I leave, but I've got a weird pain in my right leg. Oh well, beautiful day, beautiful life, and hey, beautiful me. Ready to rock my new adventure out of this town!

"Ara!" Dad's in a full-blown panic mode, making sure I don't leave anything behind that I'll bawl my eyes out for later.

"Dad, I'll be back every weekend, remember?" But he's still bustling around the house like a worried hen. That's when he slips and his wig goes flying. Embarrassment colors his face, but he tries to muster a smile. I rush over, helping him up and carefully placing his wig back.

"No biggie, it's alright "I assure him, my smile reflecting understanding. . I want him to know he doesn't need to be flawless; he's perfect to me just as he is.

"Now, let's put the running on hold and bid each other farewell." I wrap him in a tight hug, and he holds on like he's never letting go, tears trickling down his cheeks. I pat his shoulder, my own eyes a bit misty, and we share a heartfelt embrace.

"I'll be back every weekend, just watch."

He chuckles through his tears, wiping them away before planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Take care," he whispers.

I drive away, feeling the breeze on my face. It's strangely refreshing.

The house stands grand and imposing, radiating an air of history. The colors, the stone choices, it all exudes a captivating old-world charm. It's a feast for the eyes and a hug for the soul, this beautiful place.

My finger brushes the doorbell, and like a magical response, the door swings open revealing a good-looking, fine tall guy with black hair, blue eyes. He's in his early twenties and he's softly tousling his hair. Now, it's clearer why he's been considering a complete modern overhaul for this house. The current ambiance feels slightly too aged for his taste. He beams at me with a sincere, generous smile.

"Hello, Charlie here," he introduces himself, extending his hand, and I respond with a handshake.

"Hey, Ara here."

"Please, come on in," he gestures, inviting me into the living space and pointing towards the sofa.

"Would you prefer tea, coffee, or perhaps something cold?" he inquires, he asked with his doe eyes struck on my doe eyes.

"Anything is perfect," I reply, my smile warm as he retreats to the kitchen.

I glance around the house, appreciating its beauty and meticulous upkeep, yet sensing a void that leaves it feeling somewhat empty.

I decided to head into the kitchen, eager to make this place friendlier since we'll be sharing it for a while.

"Hey. Would it be alright if I joined you here?" He chuckles.

"Absolutely, I'd welcome the company." I understand that he's a decent guy, but maybe a little lonely. And he wish he could find a lover that can hold him. Crying in his roo...

*"You good?" he is definitely confused.*Yeah, I zoned out and was probably belting out a tune in my head, complete with expressions. Time to switch gears.

"Are you residing alone in this grand house?" I ask, settling onto the counter beside the stove. He understood I avoided the topic and chuckled lightly and then answered.

"Yeps. My parents left me at two days old, and my grandparents parted ways when I turned fifteen. Hence, I've been flying solo ever since." Oh! This is totally heart breaking.

"I am so sorry."

"Please don't be," he responds with a smile.

"I'm adapting well, and now, I'm genuinely very happy to have a friendly roommate who's comfortably perched on the counter, chatting with me as we've known each other forever, when we have just introduced ourselves"

His laughter echoes, and I close my eyes, trying to look embarrassed, yet I'm unable to suppress my smile.

"Well, this is simply my nature, and for the coming months, you'll have to bear with it," I admit and he wears a warm smile. 

"Regarding work, my team will be here bright and early tomorrow."

He nods, saying, "That sounds fantastic. Now, would you prefer to move and have your tea or stay here and enjoy it?" I can see his playful expression so I observe him with a slight narrowing of my eyes.

"Moving it is," I declare playfully, jumping off the counter to accept the cup Charlie offers.

"Thank you," I say with a touch of sarcasm, and together we make our way to the sofa. I can sense his laughter trailing behind me.

*"HOLD THAT LAUGHTER!!!"*That's when he bursts into a full-on laugh, like it's been bottled up inside forever. And I can't explain why, but suddenly I'm laughing right alongside him, wholeheartedly sharing in the joy.

The sun's up, and here we are, gathered like a quirky bunch of superheroes in a team meeting.

"I vote for adding a touch of elegance to this place. It's got its charm," Sheely suggests, looking like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine, even though she's a vintage interiors enthusiast.

"Wait, are you trying to turn it into a monk's meditation retreat?" Shiro fires back, arms crossed. He's got one foot in traditional roots and the other in modern swag. I'm secretly hoping for a rom-com plot twist between these two.

"Guys, let's stick to what the client wants," I jump in, hoping to avert a décor war before hair-pulling begins.

Charlie, our unexpected wildcard, strolls in. Now, I had a picture of him in a tailored suit, but instead, he's all messy hair and casual pajamas. Rocking the comfy chic vibe, are we?

"Morning, Charlie!" I greet him, with a hint of amusement.

"Not quite morning, because I might nap and then start the day fresh but Good morning to all of you," he grins. 

Well he not exactly what I expected. 

As we continue our morning brainstorming session, the ideas fly faster than seagulls hunting for french fries.

"Hey, what about a disco ball in the living room?" I throw out, only half-joking.

Shiro raises an eyebrow, deadpanning, "Yeah, right. Because nothing says 'vintage charm' like a shiny ball reflecting neon lights."

We all burst into laughter, and even Charlie, who's been lounging on a couch, chuckles from his cozy corner.

"Disco ball it is then!" I declare dramatically, earning a few eye rolls and some playful groans.

Sheely chimes in, "Well, if we're going for relics of the past, why not bring in some lava lamps too?"

"Ooh, and a pet rock collection!" I add, barely keeping a straight face.

Charlie, our unsuspecting comedy critic, raises an eyebrow and says with mock seriousness, "And don't forget the 8-track tape player."

We dissolve into fits of laughter, imagining this ancient-meets-outrageous interior decorating scheme.

Amidst the laughter and playful banter, there's a moment of unexpected nostalgia that sweeps through the room. As the echo of Charlie's mention of the 8-track tape player hangs in the air, a sudden quietness falls upon the team.

I can't help but smile as I'm transported back to the memories of my childhood. The warmth of my mom's cozy living room, the crackling sound of the tapes as they played my favorite songs, and the joy of dancing around with carefree abandon. It's funny how a simple comment can trigger a rush of emotions, connecting us to the past in such a profound way.

Glancing around the room, I notice that I'm not the only one lost in thought. Sheely's expression softens as she gazes into the distance, perhaps reminiscing about the vintage pieces that hold a special place in her heart. Shiro's stern demeanor seems to momentarily soften, his eyes distant as if he's retracing the steps of his own journey through time.

Even Charlie, the unexpected wildcard, appears to have a hint of sentiment in his eyes. It's as if this lighthearted conversation about quirky décor has touched a deeper chord within all of us.

As the laughter subsides and the room settles into a comfortable silence, I can't help but feel a sense of camaraderie. We might be a quirky bunch of superheroes gathered in a team meeting, but beneath the surface, we're all individuals with our own stories, memories, and emotions.

"Hey," Charlie's voice breaks the silence, his tone softer than before, "you know, there's something beautiful about blending the past with the present. It's like paying tribute to where we come from while embracing the journey that's led us here."

His words resonate deeply, capturing the essence of the moment. We may have come together to discuss interior design and client preferences, but in this unexpected pause, we've also uncovered a shared connection—a reminder that beneath our everyday roles, we're all human, shaped by our experiences and the memories that have molded us.

With a collective nod, we move forward, not just as a team of designers, but as a group of individuals who bring a piece of their own history into the creative process. As we continue brainstorming, the ideas flow with renewed enthusiasm, now infused with a touch of sentimentality. And amidst the laughter and planning, I find myself grateful for the unexpected moments of connection that make our team truly unique—a quirky bunch of superheroes, indeed.

Day 60th in the house

Its already been a month in this house and now this house feels like home. Well, folks, it's been a wild ride. Who knew that a bunch of interior design enthusiasts could turn a house into a melting pot of charm, swag, and utter quirkiness in just sixty days? As I make my way through the now-familiar halls, I can't help but marvel at the mishmash of styles that have somehow blended into something... surprisingly cohesive.

The sun beams through the windows, giving our disco ball a chance to shine. Yes, we stuck with the disco ball idea, and let me tell you, it's become the official MVP of our design decisions. It's like the room is having its own party, and honestly, we might have spent more time dancing around it than making actual design choices.

Speaking of choices, Sheely's elegance is a perfect contrast to Shiro's modern swag. Although, I have to say, there's been a subtle change in the air between them. Could it be that all this design chaos has given rise to a potential rom-com plot twist? I've caught Shiro stealing glances at Sheely when he thinks no one's looking, and Sheely's been known to blush whenever they're in close proximity. Ah, love in the time of quirky interior design.

But let's not forget about our resident wildcard, Charlie. His pajama-clad appearances have become a staple, and I'm convinced he's onto something with his comfy chic vibe. Who needs tailored suits when you can rock a bedhead and pajamas like a pro?

As I stroll, I finally reach the best vantage point I could find for today. It's the spot where Sheely and Shiro seem to be lost in their own world, gazing into each other's eyes with an unmistakable connection. I can't resist—I have to witness this. Carefully arranging myself, I settle into my chosen spot, feeling like I've stumbled upon a scene from a romantic movie.

But just as I get settled, I notice two ocean-deep eyes staring right back at me, accompanied by a mischievous grin. Caught red-handed, I can't help but offer a sheepish smile. "Would you mind a company?" Charlie playfully asks, fully aware of my not-so-stealthy observation.

I chuckle softly, my "why not" expression saying it all. There's no denying that Sheely and Shiro's unfolding connection is too captivating to pass up. And as I settle in alongside Charlie, we become the amused spectators of a romantic moment that feels straight out of a storybook. The Sheely and Shiro show continues, and we're here for it, popcorn not required.

Well, it seems I've stumbled into the front row seats of the Sheely-Shiro Show, and let me tell you, the drama is better than any reality TV. As Charlie and I exchange amused glances, it's like we're watching a romantic movie unfold right before our eyes. I can practically hear the dramatic music in the background, and I half-expect someone to start narrating the scene with a deep voice.

I lean in to Charlie, barely containing my excitement. "You know, I always suspected there was more than just design discussions going on between them."

Charlie chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving the captivating spectacle. "Well, it's certainly turned into a live show now."

Sheely and Shiro continue to exchange charged looks and playful banter, and I can't help but wonder if they're aware that the entire room is practically crackling with their chemistry. It's like they're speaking their own language, one filled with unspoken desires and subtle hints. If this were a movie, I'd be the overly invested audience member, shouting advice at the screen.

"Go for it, Sheely! You've got this!" I whisper under my breath, causing Charlie to chuckle beside me.

As Sheely leans in, her lips brushing against Shiro's ear, I can practically feel the electric jolt of their connection. And then, boom! She goes in for the kiss, bold and unapologetic, like she's taking charge of her own romantic storyline. And let me tell you, Shiro is not complaining. The kiss ignites a spark that sets the room on fire, and I have to resist the urge to clap and cheer like a supportive friend in a rom-com.

When the kiss ends, they share a breathless smile, and it's like the room is suddenly filled with confetti and fireworks. I turn to Charlie, who's grinning like he's just witnessed the grand finale of a spectacular fireworks show.

"Ah, young love," he says, his tone playful. "Who would've thought our interior design escapade would turn into a romance novel?"

I can't help but burst into laughter at his comment. "Honestly, Charlie, I wouldn't be surprised if a romance novel comes out of this. 'Passion and Paint Swatches: A Tale of Love and Interior Design.'"

Charlie chuckles, nodding in agreement. "And we'd be the quirky sidekicks, providing comic relief in the background."

As Sheely and Shiro share a more lighthearted moment, I can't help but feel a wave of happiness wash over me. Amidst the audacious designs and the unexpected romance, our little team has become a family, complete with all the quirks and dynamics that make life truly entertaining.

I nudge Charlie playfully. "Well, my friend, it looks like our little team has more twists and turns than a roller coaster. Who would've thought interior design could be so... eventful?"

Charlie grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Eventful is an understatement. But you know what they say, life is an adventure, and sometimes, the most memorable moments are the ones you least expect."

"Oh! Already found a writer for a book about them," I chuckle, adding to the imaginary narrative. And that's when, out of nowhere, Charlie puts his head on my shoulder, a gesture that catches me off guard.

I blink at him, momentarily surprised by his unexpected display of camaraderie. "Uh, Charlie, you okay there?"

He lifts his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Just getting into the whole 'comic relief' sidekick role, you know?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Well, you're definitely nailing it. Who knew our journey in interior design would also involve becoming part of a rom-com?"

Charlie smirks. "Life has a funny way of surprising us."

As we watch Sheely and Shiro continue to exchange banter and stolen glances, I can't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. This unexpected friendship, the quirky moments, and the blossoming romance—all of it has turned our adventure into something truly special.

"Who would've thought that designing spaces could lead to designing relationships?" I muse, more to myself than anyone else.

Charlie looks at me with mock seriousness. "You know, maybe we're onto something here. 'Matchmakers by Day, Designers by Night.'"

I burst into laughter, unable to contain myself. "Oh, Charlie, you're going to give them a run for their money in the romance department!"

Charlie grins. "Hey, if we can create swoon-worthy interiors, why not some swoon-worthy connections too?"

As Sheely and Shiro's playful interaction comes to a lighthearted conclusion, I can't help but smile. The room is filled with an energy that's as vibrant as the eclectic décor we've crafted over the past sixty days.

And as Charlie and I exchange a knowing glance, I realize that we might not have capes or superpowers, but we've created something truly extraordinary—a team of quirky, passionate individuals who have turned a house into a home and a simple project into an unforgettable journey.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Charlie leans in and whispers, "You know, if this whole interior design thing doesn't work out, we could always start a matchmaking business. 'From Throw Pillows to Love Pillows—your one-stop shop for stylish spaces and sizzling connections!'"

I burst into laughter, unable to hold back my amusement. "Charlie, you're a genius! Who wouldn't want their home and heart to be given a makeover at the same time?"

Charlie chuckles, his laughter infectious. "Exactly! We'd be the ultimate dynamic duo, making love and design dreams come true."

And so, amidst the laughter and playful banter, we dream up a whole new business venture that involves equal parts design expertise and romantic intuition. As the day continues, our brainstorming takes a delightful detour into the world of hilariously creative business ideas, leaving us all in stitches and realizing that sometimes the best plans are the ones you never saw coming.

But what I saw coming were the bunch of texts from my neighbors and everyone I know.

"Rush home fast, he is dead," the messages read, their urgency and starkness hitting me like a tidal wave.

I wish that 'he' is not my dad