Someone slides their hands under the small of my waist and picks me up off the bed. Bridal style.
My eyes nearly open, but the curves of my body recognize her gentle touch, and the familiar scent of vanilla coaxes me back to sleep.
"Ms. Montague?" Someone calls anxiously.
"Which one?" I point to myself, and then my mother, her facial features lit with bliss.
We both burst into laughter. Kermit the Frog is there; life is good.
A delicious, savory aroma gradually calls me from my slumber.
Ah, that was just a dream! Still wanna Kermit suicide.
I stir, stretching out my limbs torturously slow and groaning quietly.
The sheets... they don't feel familiar.
My eyes snap open in bewilderment.
W-Where am I?!
A plain comfy bed, to answer my question. Soft light streams through sheer curtains.
I bite my nails, dumbfounded. Should I explore my surroundings?
The tantalizing aroma redraws my attention.
Maybe I should find out where that wonderful scent originates from first. I lick my lips.
"♪ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine... ♪"
"GAH!!" The pancake flies off of the pan, hitting the ceiling.
"That's fucking great." She sighs, her face red with embarrassment.
"Luna..." I place a hand on my temple and laugh humorously, before realizing that I'm supposed to be bewildered, not pleased.
"Where are we?!"
She crosses her long legs in a swift motion, showcasing the devil's grin.
"Whad'ya mean, 'our house'?"
"Don't be upset..." She smiles nervously. "I may have just, uh, purchased a house."
My knees buckle at the mere thought of it. Why'd she suddenly buy— ah, I give up.
Rich people are just something else.