my drug is my baby

i'll be using for the rest of my l i f e . . .

〰️〰️〰️

As much as I respected Donatella, being both my boss and sort of a stricter second mother, there was one day I'd rather die than set foot in her studio.

Our monthly Saturday morning staff meetings.

Stressful wasn't even an adequate word to describe them. It was the only time where the fifteenth floor was complete anarchy. Donatella was typically a very grounded person who had control over anyone that was within the vicinity of her office space. I never understood how she did it, but I admired her for it. Saturday mornings were her Achilles heel.

We'd gather in the biggest conference room (which Donatella preferred to call "chitchat rooms") in the studio – sample cutters, fabric designers, sewers, assistants, and the like. There was never enough caffeine to go around for all the people that would flood the area, which goes to say there was never enough room for anyone to breathe. Sometimes they'd last an hour long, sometimes three or four. It was our monthly moment to clean up, organize, and get our shit together.

Now at this particular Saturday meeting, I was ready to leave the second I walked through the doors. That wasn't the case, considering I was there from when it started at nine o'clock in the morning until just past noon. I was close to the point of passing out, due to the lack of food in my stomach blended with too much coffee, and yet I had a Halloween party to attend later on.

I somewhat had a costume ready, the last minute idea of being a leopard coming to me before I fell asleep the night before. It was lazy and uninspired, but with my sister's wedding consuming my life for the better part of the year, I had the same amount of energy to care about Halloween as I did being a bridesmaid.

Not much.

Gus and I had known about the party for a couple of weeks and we were still unprepared. Typical of us – nevertheless, we were stressed. I wasn't even sure if he had an idea for what to wear, although he was the least of my concerns. Deep down, I knew that wasn't really true because he'd be up my ass for advice when I had a million other things to do besides approve whatever mediocre costume he could dream up.

Dean, who I mentioned before is my favorite guy out of Gus' posse, was the host. He and his sister's shared apartment in the oldest part of the city was a place that was no stranger to parties. They were both in the nursing field, or else I'd question how the hell they could afford to live where they do. With charming cobblestone roads and protected historic sites that contradicted modern condos and experimental eateries that were slowly taking over the area, it certainly wasn't cheap. But really, what was anymore?

While we didn't have to go out of our way to impress them, or anyone else that would be there for that matter, I was the imbecile that volunteered to bring a dessert. In my head, it sounded better than I initially thought. Clearly I didn't think that one all the way through.

Once I got a costume idea, I spent however many minutes wasting away time I could've spent sleeping to scroll feverishly through Pinterest, looking for Halloween party desserts like a crazed coupon clipper hunting for a deal. Ultimately, it would end up to be a toothache-worthy concoction of sugar and cream cheese because apparently those were the only two ingredients you'd need to make any sort of sweet dip, according to at-home chefs and food bloggers. Either way, the dying perfectionist somewhere buried inside me couldn't disappoint.

When the elevator reached the lobby and Nadia elbowed my arm because I didn't make a move to step out, I knew I'd been daydreaming about the grocery store for too long.

"Sorry," I mumbled with a shake of my head.

"What's going on with you? All day, you've been like, daydreaming," she asked, her eyebrows furrowing at me.

"I know," I sighed, "I've got this Halloween party tonight and I'm supposed to bring a dessert, but of course I waited until the literal last minute to make it. I still have no idea what I'm gonna do."

She drew in a sharp breath, always so understanding about whatever shit situation I managed to get myself into on the daily. "I was never a big fan of Halloween. Then again, my parents never really participated in celebrating it. Not until they moved to America and had me, but even as a kid, it wasn't my favorite holiday."

"I liked it as a kid. Now as I get older, every holiday is just... fucking annoying."

"You got that right."

We both stopped on the sidewalk outside the lobby doors and glanced at the street. My phone pinged with the notification that my Uber had arrived, my eyes scanning the street for his white sedan. When I spotted it double parked a few feet away, I hiked my tote bag further up my shoulder and smiled at Nadia.

"Alright, wish me luck. I'll see you Monday," I shouted, hoping she could hear me over the racket the construction men were making across the street.

"Let me know how it goes! I definitely want to see your finished product," she beamed back at me.

I gave her a mock-salute, then slid into the backseat of my Uber, ultimately falling into a polite yet mundane conversation with my driver about our weekend plans just to pass the time. Most people complained about talkative drivers in cabs, but I honestly always thought it was more awkward when they didn't speak. It made the time go by slower if it was a silent ride.

He pulled up to the supermarket a few blocks from my apartment building and my phone started to vibrate. I looked down to see it was Collin, thanked my driver and hoped his proposal to his girlfriend later on would go smoothly, then swiped on the call as I walked through the automatic glass doors.

"Hey," I breathed into the phone. "What's going on?"

"Nothing really. Just wanted to see what time Jax and I could come over to your place later," Collin said. I could tell he was chewing on something by the way some of his words were muffled. At the thought of lunch, my stomach whined.

"Uhhh," I dragged out the word, lost in space as I spun in circles in the middle of the produce section of the store. "What the fuck am I even looking for?"

"What are you doing?" He laughed through his question.

I rolled my eyes and let out an aggravated growling sound. My feet ended up dragging me to the dairy aisle then, in hopes that maybe that section would spark an idea. "I gotta bring a dessert tonight because I'm an idiot. I have no idea what I'm going to make, so I'm in Trader Joe's right now trying to figure that out," I explained, the tension in my tone making a few shoppers glance my way. With my hair on top of my head in a fluffy disaster of a bun, scarcely any makeup on besides mascara on my lashes, and an entirely black ensemble, I was sure I got more questionable looks than any other customers.

"Just make like, some kind of pumpkin spice dip. People love that shit. Oh, and add chocolate chips, too."

I paused by the cream cheese and stared at the different packages with my mouth agape. Collin's words formed a vision in my head of a dessert in which I could definitely find a recipe for on Pinterest. Why didn't I think of that?

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Only a few times. But tell me again, just for good measure."

"I love you. Thank you for the idea," I rushed through my words now that I had somewhat of a plan, eager to act on it. "Come to my place around... five? Six? I don't know. Come over whenever you guys want, you have a spare key. I gotta go now because I need to shop, make this damn dip, and get ready. I'll talk to you later."

At my manic rambling, he didn't keep me on the phone for a minute longer. We said our goodbyes, and I was off to browse Pinterest recipes for pumpkin spice flavored dips while simultaneously shopping for said ingredients.

〰️〰️〰️

The moment I entered my apartment an hour later, absolutely famished with two full grocery bags in my arms, I almost dropped to the floor. Gus and Ziggy were both sprawled out on our living room couch watching the TV which happened to be playing a commercial. As the dog jumped up to greet me, my boyfriend craned his neck over the back of the couch to find me.

"Did you walk home with all of that?" Was the first thing out of his mouth.

I trudged over to the island in the kitchen with Ziggy following along, and dropped all of my bags on the countertop. "Yes, because I didn't want to take another Uber. It's only a few blocks," I panted. Whether I was out of breath from the walk or from not having eaten all day, I wasn't sure.

"Why didn't you text me? I would've picked you up," he said then, pushing himself off the couch and strolling over to me. I peered up at him to see his eyebrows drawn together, sapphire gaze focusing on my own, a hand leaning on the island next to me in anticipation of my answer.

"It's fine," I breathlessly insisted, shaking my head. I took a second to bend down and acknowledge Ziggy with a loving squeeze of his head, and my own head felt exceptionally dizzy when I stood up straight again. "I just... need something to eat and then I gotta make this dip. I don't even remember what I bought. I was looking through like, a million recipes, grabbing shit off the shelves, and now here I am."

"Sit down; I'll make you something," Gus told me so casually, it caught me off guard at first. His hands went to my waist as he guided me towards one of the empty stools around the island. I gladly took a seat, propping my chin up with my hands and watching him search through our fridge. "Why did you even tell Dean you'd bring a dessert? You've been so fucking busy lately. You know he wouldn't care if you backed out."

I shrugged, though he couldn't see since his back was to me. "Because I'm stupid, that's why."

Gus spun around with the plastic container we kept the eggs in, a disapproving look on his face as he knocked the fridge door shut with his shoulder. All I had to offer him was a yawn.

We talked, about the party and who we'd see there and past Halloween memories, while Gus made me some kind of veggie egg white omelet and toast. He sat with me after he finished his creation, a satisfied grin on his face from me inhaling my only meal of the day so far. Between my body being malnourished and Gus knowing his way around the kitchen, it was fucking delicious.

I had to admit, if there was one good thing about us, it was that we were pretty proficient when it came to cooking. Maybe not so much in our early years of dating, but definitely by the time we first moved in together. Gus started to get into health and wellness then, hence his near daily gym trips and passion for protein shakes, but it all paid off because that boy had a hell of a body. I wasn't so much of a gym-lover as I was an avid dog walker and nutrition label enthusiast, but it was still worthy knowledge and my own form of exercise that I enjoyed.

We made it work, regardless. Although we were like any other twenty-something's and had our fair share of occasional nights that included too much drinking, binging on greasy take out, and opting for overpriced restaurants when we easily could've stayed home. It was all about balance.

Gus and I were lazing around the island for longer than we should have because by the time I realized the hour, I almost had a meltdown. And yet, I didn't have time for a meltdown. He and Ziggy flinched when I sprung off my stool and started buzzing around the kitchen hysterically.

One minute, I was dumping cream cheese, sugar, vanilla, and assorted spices into our stand mixer and beating it to death with the mixing tools. The next, I was reading the recipe instructions out loud, over and over again as if that was going to help me comprehend them better. With the way my day was going, I was surprised I was even functioning at all.

After I successfully made a mess of both my kitchen and my clothes, I was left with hardly enough time to get ready which meant a shower without washing my hair, and the fastest makeup routine I could master.

The dip was chilling in the fridge and I was overheating in the bathroom. I ran a curling wand through my hair and almost burnt the inside of my arm, hustled through some cat makeup, and searched for the right pieces for my costume; meanwhile all Gus had to do was change his outfit. Sure, I could've vastly lessened the amount of fucks I gave to meet his level, but I just couldn't. He'd always have it easier, and I'd always hate him for it.

"How do I look?" His question came from our bedroom, in the middle of me attempting to perfect my winged eyeliner. I didn't budge to save my makeup or else I'd end up staying home.

"Just a second..." I mumbled, tugging at the skin around my eye. Every online beauty guru's voice echoed in my head, scolding me not to do that unless I wanted premature wrinkles, and yet I couldn't resist. "Okay. Got it." I backed away from the mirror and started breathing again. A smile appeared when I saw the symmetry in my wings. At least I had something going for me today.

Twirling around to see Gus' costume of choice, I couldn't help but chuckle.

He stood before me with his arms spread as if to say well? with an expectant grin on his face. Hideous khaki shorts that I refused to let him wear in public (I wasn't even sure why he owned them), a button up shirt of the same color, worn out combat boots he saved for messy occasions, and a bucket hat on his head.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the vanity. "Are you a safari guide, by any chance?" I asked with a raised brow and an amused quirking of my lips.

"As a matter of fact, I am," he said like he was impressed that I comprehended his costume so quickly. "I figured since you were being a cheetah–"

"Leopard, actually," I corrected him.

He rolled his eyes, huffing, "Whatever. I thought we may as well make it a couple's costume, you know? A leopard and a safari guide."

"Couples costume, or a rip-off of mine because you ran out of ideas?"

His hands fell in defeat and he turned away, but not before I caught the dramatic, sulky look he gave me. "Can't even give a guy some fucking credit for trying around here."

"I'm joking," I sang out, laughing at his sad and sluggish pace towards the door of our room as I followed him. Throwing my arms around his neck when I reached him, I molded myself to his back and stood on my toes to rest my chin on his shoulder. "I'm only kidding. You're a very sexy safari guide."

"I know," he pouted, but the twitching at the corners of his mouth told me he was kidding too.

I reached to peck him on the cheek and shoved him a little. "Uh huh. Now let me finish getting ready or we're never gonna make it to this damn party. Coll and Jax should be here soon, so you guys can keep each other entertained."

And at that, there was a melody of knocking at our door.

Gus went to let the boys in since I shooed him away and flung our bedroom door shut. Not that they couldn't see me in my black silk robe – we were all close enough at this point – nor would a closed door keep them from entering if they really wanted. But if we were going to leave somewhat on time, I needed to avoid shooting the breeze with my friends and get ready in peace.

All that was left for my makeup was mascara, and to draw a nose and whiskers on my face. With my gel eyeliner, a pointy brush, and a photo displayed on my phone, I attempted to copy the cutest makeup that I found on Instagram. I left a cloud of hairspray behind in the bathroom as I moved onto to tearing apart the closet, things belonging to both Gus and myself getting thrown around.

In the end, I made my grand entrance to my living room wearing a leopard bustier bodysuit, a black leather mini skirt, over-the-knee boots, and most importantly, cat ears. It wasn't entirely leopard and definitely not accurate, but it gave me an excuse to break those boots out from hiding.

Collin, Jax, and Gus were comfortably lounging on the couch until I came out. In that respective order one whistled, another's eyebrows shot up, and the last one's jaw dropped. I curtsied for a response.

"Look at you," Collin, dressed as Hugh Hefner, took the fake pipe out of his mouth to comment.

"I tried. It was pretty much the best thing I could come up with," I said, dismissively waving as I strode over to the fridge so I could take the dip out. "Did you call an Uber?"

"Yeah, he'll be here in four minutes," Jax spoke up then. I managed to catch a glimpse of his costume, being ever-the-hipster and going as an old-timey bank robber. Complete with black and white stripes, an eye mask, a fake sack of money, and his mass of dark hair tucked into a black beanie.

I carefully slid the dessert tray out of the fridge and set it on the island, making sure to take a photo and send it to Nadia before I forgot. She lovingly sent me back a congratulatory text with a ton of clapping hands.

"I feel like all of my money just goes to Uber, food, booze, and bills," I grumbled to myself.

"Could be going towards worse things," Collin pointed out. I stared at the back of his head, a flat look on my face that he couldn't see because he was too busy snuggling with Ziggy.

"Dude, accept the Uber split already," Jax squawked impatiently and smacked Collin's shoulder.

The accused scoffed, whipping his phone out so he could defend himself, but we all knew what he was going to say. We've had this exact argument with him too many times to keep track of anymore.

"I'm telling you, I never get the notification about splits. Look, I'll show you."

"Sure. You just like to wait until the last minute so we're already in the car and you don't have to split it. Cheap bastard."

"Fuck off. Look!"

While the two photographers argued, Gus got up from the couch and came over to me in the kitchen. I noticed he still hadn't said anything, about my costume or frankly anything for that matter. The sly smile really said it all.

I slid on my leather jacket and felt his presence behind me, his hands reaching out to help me. One lingered on the small of my back as he came around to face me, myself slowly blinking up at him.

"And what do you think of my costume?" I asked curiously.

His smile grew a little curvier at my question. "It's okay."

I barked a short laugh and maneuvered around him so I could prepare the dip for transportation to the party. There was no way I'd let my masterpiece even have the chance of doing a nosedive into the sidewalk or the backseat of our Uber. If that ended up happening, and God forbid it didn't, I'd turn back around and go straight to bed.

Gus kept hovering near me while I secured the plastic wrap around the aluminum tray with tape, and put it into a giant freezer bag.

"I forgot you had those boots," he remarked, which caused me to stop and glance down at the black thigh-highs.

"Me too, honestly."

He leaned his elbows on the surface of the island then, watching me delicately secure the dessert with his smirk still in place. "Remember how we broke 'em in?" His tone was low and smoky as he asked, sparking off memories in my brain that made it near impossible to suppress blushing.