A girl chasing her dream. A boy looking for the light.
When Florence Nyx started her internship at a Formula 1 paddock, she expected a lot. Fast cars. Exclusive impressions most people could only dream of. An entire array of skills she'd acquire...
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"You really want to bring him with you?" Amara laughed, scratching Rimmy's head.
"I can't just leave him alone now. He's just getting used to me!"
"He's a dog, Flo. He'll survive." She rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, but he's anxious, too. I already called ahead. The bartender on the phone said dogs are welcome there. Besides, it's not like he can pee anywhere."
Rimmy looked up at me as I shrugged on my dark leather jacket, and even though I'd been the one who put the diapers and miniature jeans on him, I still couldn't help but laugh at the sight of his outfit. The pants were fixed with tiny suspenders, helping them stay in place.
"I still can't believe he's wearing jeans," Amara quipped, turning up his right jeans' leg, so it doesn't trail over the ground.
"You saw how hard he tried to chew on the diapers. This way he can't do that, and he looks cool." I smirked, picking Rimmy up from the ground. "Now, are we going, or what?"
Amara glanced at her phone. "Yup, we're going. Our Uber is here, anyway."
We made our way downstairs, waving at the hotel concierge before we got into the black hybrid Hyundai waiting for us.
I tried my hardest to ignore the stares the driver shot in Rimmy's direction.
I swear. I tried.
But when we stopped at a red light, and his furrowed brows met me in the rear mirror once more, I couldn't stop myself.
"Never seen a dog on wheels before?"
The man shook his head, wide eyes now directing back at the street.
"You're free to ask if you have questions, but staring is rude as hell. Even to a dog," I muttered, glancing back at said canine in my lap.
Rimmy didn't care about the exchange, his gaze directed at the street outside our window. He kept opening and closing his mouth, and I got under the impression he was trying to catch the street lights as we passed them. A snort fled my lips as I watched him snap at his surroundings, instantly forgetting the unpleasant conversation.
We came to a stop somewhere in downtown L.A., a bright green neon sign of our designated bar blazing from across the street. "There you go," the driver said as he stopped the car, turning around to face me. His eyes fell on Rimmy in my lap, and he smiled while stretching out his hand, trying to pet him.
"Rrrroof!" Rimmy jumped up and glared at the man, a deep growl coming from his throat. My eyes widened as I stared at my dog, wondering when the hell he learned to make noises like that. This was the first time I'd heard him do it.
"Damn, dog. No need to bite." The man chuckled and pulled away, shaking his head at us as Amara got out of the car. She shot me a look that told me not to make a scene, but I didn't care.
