NOT YOUR UBER

(The Next Morning milk stands outside Love’s ridiculous mansion, arms crossed, glaring at the front door like it personally offended her.)

Milk: (muttering) "I swear, if she doesn’t come out in the next two minutes, I’m leaving her ass here."

(The grand doors swing open. Love steps out, effortlessly stunning in another designer outfit, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose.)

Love: (cheerfully) "Ah, right on time! My personal chauffeur never disappoints."

Milk:"I am NOT your—"

Love: (ignoring her) "Let’s go, I have a busy day."

(She slides into the car.)

Milk exhales sharply, contemplating whether or not it’s too late to just drive off. But, with a resigned sigh, she gets in and starts the engine.

Inside the car

Milk: (grumbling) "Where to, your highness?"

Love: "Coffee first. Then shopping. Then we’ll see."

Milk:"Oh, we’ll see? Great. Can’t wait."

Love: (grinning) "See? You’re getting the hang of this."

Milk:"You are insufferable."

Love: "And yet, here you are. Driving me. Again."

Milk:"Because SOMEONE left a wad of cash in my car that I may or may not have already spent."

Love: "So what I’m hearing is... you need me."

Milk grips the wheel tighter, resisting the urge to slam her head against it.

At the café

(The café is small but high-end, the kind of place that serves $10 lattes with a side of judgment. Milk finds a parking spot, expecting Love to hop out and order like a normal human being.)

Milk:"Alright, go get your overpriced—"

Love: "Nope. Drive-thru."

Milk: (staring at her) "What."

Love:"I don’t do lines, darling. Drive-thru it is."

Milk: "I hate you."

Love: "No, you don’t. Now, I’ll have an iced caramel macchiato, oat milk, extra shot, light ice, half the syrup, and make it a grande."

Milk: (mocking) "Oh, of course. Let me just decode that nonsense real quick."

Love:"You’re the best."

Milk: "I really am not."

At the Boutique

(The boutique is every bit as obnoxiously fancy as Love. Milk leans against the car, arms crossed, waiting while Love shops.)

Milk: (muttering) "She better not take an hour."

(Thirty minutes later, Love struts out with five bags.)

Love: "Oh, good, you’re still here!"

Milk: "Barely."

Love: "Help me with these."

Milk:"I am NOT your servant."

Love: "Fine, I’ll carry them all myself and suffer. Is that what you want?"

Milk: "Yes."

(Love pouts dramatically, but Milk doesn’t budge. Huffing, Love awkwardly loads her bags into the car, grumbling under her breath. Milk smirks.)

Milk: "See? You’re learning."

Love: "I hate you."

Milk: "No, you don’t.

The Mansion – Later That Night

(Love steps out of the car, tossing another wad of cash onto the passenger seat.)

Love: "For your troubles."

Milk: "I hate that this is working on me."

Love: "See you tomorrow, driver."

Milk: "I will crash this car into a lake."

Love: "No, you won’t."

(She winks and heads inside. Milk sighs, staring at the money, shaking her head.)

Milk: "...I’m never getting rid of her, am I?"

Milk drives off, gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.

💭 Milk’s thoughts:"Why am I even doing this? She’s just some spoiled brat with too much money and too little common sense."

She exhales, forcing herself to loosen her grip. But as she turns onto the main road, something nags at her. That moment—just before Love left—the way she hesitated. The way she said, "It just never feels like home."

Milk scoffs, shaking her head. Not my problem.

The Next Night – Same Spot, Same Car

Milk parks outside the restaurant again, but this time, she doesn’t wait. She’s not here for her. She’s just—coincidentally—at the same place. That’s all.

Then, like clockwork, Love strides out, head buried in her phone. She doesn’t even hesitate before yanking open the door and sliding in.

Milk doesn’t even flinch this time.

Milk: "You do realize this isn’t how Uber works, right?"

Love: (nonchalant) "Shut up and drive."

Milk rolls her eyes but pulls out of the parking lot anyway.

This time, there’s no dramatic realization. No yelling. No fake kidnapping accusations.

Just silence.

It’s unsettling.

Milk glances at her. Love is staring out the window, phone in her lap, fingers absently tapping against it like she’s deep in thought.

Milk:"What? No unnecessary commentary tonight?"

Love hums, not looking at her.

Love: "You ever get tired of your life?"

Milk arches a brow, caught off guard.

Milk:"What kind of rich-people existential crisis—"

Love: (cutting in) "Forget it."

Milk doesn’t press. Instead, she just keeps driving.

And for the first time since this ridiculous arrangement started, the silence between them isn’t uncomfortable.

It just is.

The Next Morning – A Slight Change in Routine

Milk is parked outside Love’s ridiculous mansion again, sipping her coffee and pretending she’s not waiting.

The front doors swing open, and Love steps out—this time, not in a designer outfit. Instead, she’s in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants.

Milk nearly spits out her coffee.

Milk: "Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Love?"

Love: (yawning) "I didn’t feel like dressing up today. Don’t make it weird."

Milk watches as Love slides into the passenger seat, pulling the hoodie over her head like she’s trying to disappear.

Milk: "Did the apocalypse happen, and no one told me? You—wearing normal clothes? What’s next? You admitting I’m right about everything?"

Love:"Don’t push your luck. Just drive."

Milk smirks but does as she’s told.

At the Café – Again

Milk parks in front of the same high-end café, but before Love can say anything—

Milk: "No. We’re going inside today."

Love groans dramatically, sinking into her seat.

Love:"I told you, I’m not feeling—"

Milk: "What? Fancy? Perfect? Good? Too bad. You’re still a human being. Now get out."

Love glares but doesn’t argue. With a sigh, she pulls up her hood and follows Milk inside.

Inside the Café

Milk orders her usual black coffee, while Love lazily orders an iced latte. No complicated nonsense this time.

As they wait, Love stares at the counter, expression unreadable.

Milk: "You look like a kicked puppy. What’s your deal?"

Love: (muttering) "Nothing. Just tired."

Milk studies her for a beat before scoffing.

Milk: "Right. Because people like you have so many problems."

Love doesn’t bite back like usual. She just stirs her drink absentmindedly.

Milk frowns. Something is off.

Milk: "Okay. Who pissed in your diamond-encrusted cereal this morning?"

Love lets out a short laugh, shaking her head.

Love:"Nothing happened. I just—" (pauses) "You ever wake up and realize everything in your life is exactly how it should be... and yet, you still feel like something’s missing?"

Milk blinks. That’s... not what she expected.

For once, she doesn’t have a snarky response.

So instead, she just takes a sip of her coffee and mutters—

Milk: "Yeah. I get it."

Love glances at her, surprised.

Milk doesn’t elaborate.

And Love doesn’t push.

For once, they just drink their coffee in peace.