NOT YOUR UBER

The car ride is suffocatingly silent, save for the soft hum of the engine. Milk keeps her eyes on the road, her grip on the steering wheel firm, knuckles slightly pale. Love, on the other hand, is completely at ease, leaning back in her seat with one leg casually crossed over the other.

Love: "So... where are we going?"

Milk doesn’t answer immediately. Her jaw tenses.

Milk: "You wanted a ride. That’s it. I didn’t sign up for conversation."

Love: "Ouch. Harsh. But fair."

(She doesn’t seem the least bit offended, though. Instead, she pulls out her phone, scrolling through something with an amused smirk.)

Milk exhales sharply, her patience thinning. Love hums along to a song playing from her phone, completely disregarding Milk’s obvious irritation.

Milk:"Can you turn that off?"

Love:"What, you don’t like music?"

Milk: "I don’t like you."

(Love gasps dramatically, clutching her chest as if wounded.)

Love: "So cold. Are you always like this, or is it just me who brings out your sparkling personality?"

Milk doesn’t dignify that with a response. Love simply chuckles, clearly enjoying herself despite Milk’s best efforts to make the ride unbearable.

After a few minutes, Love stretches her arms above her head, sighing contentedly.

Love: "You know, you’re the only person who hasn’t treated me like glass since… well, forever. It’s kinda refreshing."

Milk finally spares her a glance, skeptical.

Milk:"Refreshing? You’re annoying me on purpose. How is that refreshing?"

Love shrugs.

Love:"Because you don’t pity me. You don’t treat me like some fragile little thing that needs protecting. You just… act like I’m any other person."

Milk scoffs, turning her attention back to the road.

Milk:"You say that like it’s a good thing."

Love:"Maybe it is. Maybe I like how you don’t pretend to care."

Milk grips the steering wheel tighter. Something about that makes her uneasy. Like there’s more weight to Love’s words than she’s willing to admit.

Milk: "You think too much."

Love: "And you think too little."

The air between them shifts. Heavier. Unspoken things lurking just beneath the surface. Milk doesn’t know why that bothers her.

She clicks her tongue, finally pulling into the parking lot of a small, quiet café. Love raises an eyebrow.

Love:"Oh? Didn’t take you for the café type."

Milk: "I’m not. But if I have to deal with you for one more second without caffeine, I might actually commit a crime."

Love laughs, stepping out of the car.

Love:"Well, in that case, let me buy you a drink. Consider it a peace offering."

Milk watches her, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before sighing.

Milk: "Fine. But if you order something with way too much sugar, I’m leaving you here."

Love winks. "Noted."

As they step into the café, Milk tells herself she’s just tolerating Love for now. That there’s no reason her words should linger in her mind. That none of this means anything.

But deep down, something tells her—

She’s lying.

As Love steps into the café, she barely has time to take in the warm, inviting atmosphere before a soft chime signals someone stepping out from behind the counter.

Namtan:"Welcome—"

She pauses mid-greeting, eyes locking onto Love. Recognition flickers across her face, followed by a knowing smirk.

Namtan:"So, you’re the infamous Love."

Love blinks, momentarily caught off guard. "Huh?"

Milk exhales sharply beside her. "Told you she talks too much."

Love turns to Milk, eyes narrowing. "What exactly did you tell her?"

Namtan:"Oh, just that you’re a handful she got stuck with."

Love gasps, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. "Unbelievable. Milk, you gossip about me?"

Milk:"I complain about you. There’s a difference."

Namtan chuckles, shaking her head. "You must be a real piece of work to get under her skin this much."

Love grins. "I like to think I’m just charming."

Milk ignores her, stepping up to the counter. "My usual."

Love:"I’ll take whatever is the sweetest thing on the menu."

Namtan raises an eyebrow at Love’s choice but nods, jotting down the order. Before heading to prepare their drinks, she gives them a once-over, amusement lingering in her expression.

Namtan:"You know, Milk doesn’t usually let people stick around. But you… you’re still here."

Milk tenses slightly, fingers drumming against the counter. She doesn’t respond, but Love catches the tiny shift in her posture.

Interesting.

Love leans in slightly, her smirk deepening. "Guess I must be special."

Milk scoffs. "Delusional is more like it."

Namtan only laughs as she disappears into the back, leaving Love to eye Milk with newfound curiosity.

She might be onto something.

Milk finds a corner table and drops into the seat with an exhausted sigh. Love follows, sliding into the seat across from her, still grinning.

Love:"So, Namtan, huh? She seems nice."

Milk gives her a flat look. "Don't get any ideas. She’s my friend, not yours."

Love places a hand over her chest, mock-offended. "Wow. You really don’t want me socializing, huh? First the car ride, now this. What’s next? Banning me from talking to your plants?"

Milk rolls her eyes. "I don’t have plants."

Love shrugs. "Not surprised. You don’t seem like the nurturing type."

Before Milk can fire back, Namtan returns with their drinks. She sets Milk’s cup down with practiced ease before placing Love’s in front of her. The drink is an overwhelming shade of pink, topped with whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel.

Namtan:"Extra sweet, just like you ordered."

Love claps her hands together. "Now, this is what I call service!" She takes a sip, sighing in contentment. "Perfection."

Namtan crosses her arms, glancing between them with amusement. "So, what’s the deal with you two? You seem… compatible in a very chaotic way."

Milk immediately scowls. "Don’t start."

Love, however, leans in with a smirk. "Oh? You think we have chemistry?"

Milk glares at her. "I will leave you here."

Namtan laughs, shaking her head. "Relax. Just curious. Milk’s not exactly the 'bring someone along' type. That alone makes you interesting."

Love hums, tapping her fingers against the table. "Well, I’m full of surprises."

Milk mutters something under her breath before taking a long sip of her coffee, as if willing herself to ignore Love’s antics.

Namtan watches them for a moment before smirking. "Well, try not to kill each other while I’m gone."

As she walks off to help another customer, Love twirls her straw between her fingers, eyes flickering toward Milk.

Love:"You talk about me more than I expected."

Milk doesn’t look at her. "Don’t flatter yourself."

Love just smiles. She doesn’t have to.

For the first time since this whole mess started, she feels like she’s starting to figure Milk out.

And that? That might just be the most fun part of this whole arrangement.

After finishing their drinks, the three of them step out of the café. The evening air is cooler now, the sky tinged with the last remnants of sunlight. Milk is already heading towards her car, but Love lingers near the entrance, stretching her arms above her head.

Love:"Well, that was nice. Maybe I should drop by more often."

Milk scoffs. "Please don’t."

Namtan laughs, slipping her hands into her pockets. "You say that, but you brought her here. That’s basically an invitation."

Milk glares at her. "I made a mistake."

Love grins, stepping closer to Milk. "Aww, you’re embarrassed. It’s okay, Milk, I won’t tell anyone you actually tolerate my presence."

Milk rolls her eyes, unlocking the car. "Get in before I leave you here."

Love is still grinning as she moves toward the car, but before she can open the door, Namtan calls out.

Namtan:"Hey, Love."

Love turns, curiosity flashing in her eyes. "Yeah?"

Namtan hesitates for just a moment before offering a small smile. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

Love blinks, clearly surprised.

Milk watches the exchange, sensing something unspoken in the way Love tilts her head slightly, like she’s trying to figure Namtan out.

Then, Love chuckles, stepping into the car. "You’re nice, Namtan. I like you more than Milk already."

Milk groans. "Can you shut up for five minutes?"

As the car pulls away, Namtan watches them disappear down the street, a thoughtful expression on her face.

She had a feeling this wasn’t the last time she’d see Love.

And somehow, she didn’t mind that at all.

The car ride back is quieter this time. Love leans against the window, watching the city lights blur past. Milk doesn’t say anything, but she occasionally glances at Love, noticing the way her usual carefree expression seems distant—like she’s lost in thought.

Finally, Milk sighs.

Milk:"What?"

Love blinks, snapping out of it. "Huh?"

Milk:"You’ve been quiet. It’s weird."

Love smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "Aw, do you miss my voice already?"

Milk glares at her. "Forget it."

Love chuckles, but it’s softer this time. She tilts her head back against the seat, eyes tracing patterns in the darkened sky.

Love:"Namtan’s nice."

Milk hums in response. "She is."

Love:"She knows about me, doesn’t she?"

Milk doesn’t answer immediately, but she doesn’t deny it either. "I told her the basics. Didn’t think it’d matter."

Love lets out a small laugh. "You don’t think much, do you?"

Milk side-eyes her. "If you have a problem with it, too bad."

Love:"No, no problem. It’s just... strange. Having someone know my situation without me having to explain it."

Milk doesn’t know how to respond to that, so she doesn’t. Instead, she just keeps driving.

After a few moments, Love shifts, turning to face her fully.

Love:"Hey, Milk."

Milk exhales, already irritated. "What now?"

Love grins, but there’s something almost unreadable in her expression.

Love:"Do you ever feel like you’re just... drifting? Like you’re stuck in a life you didn’t ask for, but there’s no way out?"

Milk’s hands tighten on the wheel. The question sits heavily between them.

She doesn’t answer.

And for once, Love doesn’t push.

The rest of the drive is silent.

But the air between them feels different now.

Milk pulls up to the grand estate, the sheer size of it still managing to irritate her every time. Tall gates, pristine hedges, and a massive white mansion that screams wealth—but there’s no warmth in it. Just like the person who lives inside.

Love doesn’t move immediately. She gazes out the window, lips slightly pursed.

Milk:"What? Forgot where you live?"

Love huffs a soft laugh but doesn’t look at her.

Love:"It just never feels like home."

Milk frowns at that but doesn’t comment. It’s not her problem.

Milk:"Whatever. Get out."

Love finally unbuckles her seatbelt but pauses.

Love:"You know, if you hate this arrangement so much, you don’t have to keep driving me around."

Milk grips the wheel.

Milk:"It’s not like I have a choice."

Love:"You do."

Milk doesn’t respond.

Love studies her for a moment longer before opening the door and stepping out. The night air is cool, carrying the faint scent of the roses that line the mansion’s pathway.

She turns back, resting her hands on the car door.

Love:"Goodnight, Milk."

Milk doesn’t look at her. "Whatever."

Love smirks but doesn’t push. She closes the door and makes her way up the stone steps.

Milk waits until she disappears inside before finally exhaling and driving off.

The house may be huge, but Love’s words echo louder than anything inside it.

And for the first time, Milk wonders if she isn’t the only one who feels trapped.