"—most ridiculous, reckless thing you've ever done, and that's saying something."
Daniel's voice filtered through the pounding in my head as consciousness crept back. I cracked one eye open, immediately regretting it as light stabbed into my brain.
"She lives," Daniel announced dryly. "Though why you'd risk dying for a cat is beyond me."
"Cat?" I croaked, slowly recognizing the ceiling of my tiny studio apartment. Cheap popcorn texture, water stain shaped like Australia. Home sweet home.
"The orange menace currently shredding your only good pillow."
I turned my head to see an orange tabby kneading my IKEA cushion with passion. Ugh, at least the pillow was on sale. The events came flooding back—the rain, the billboard, Sebastian Blackwood's giant face tilting toward me...
"How did I get here?" I struggled to sit up, discovering new bruises with each movement.
"Your knight in shining designer wear carried you." Daniel gestured to himself with a theatrical bow. "I was driving by. Saw you pull your heroic stunt right before that billboard broke loose. You got clipped but avoided full pancake status."
I squinted at him. Daniel always seemed to be "just driving by" whenever I needed help. Like the time my car broke down in a storm. Or when I couldn't make rent last semester and he'd appeared with a "poker winnings" story.
"Lucky coincidence," I muttered.
"I prefer the term 'fortuitous timing.'" He handed me a glass of water and two pills. "For the headache I know you're not admitting to having."
As I reached for the water, a strange electronic chime sounded. I glanced around.
"Did you hear that?"
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Hear what?"
"That sound... like a—" The words died in my throat as glowing golden text materialized in midair directly in front of my face.
[**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE**]
[**CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE NOW A SUGAR MOMMY!**]
[**TARGET: SEBASTIAN BLACKWOOD**]
[**MISSION: SPOIL TARGET WITHIN PARAMETERS OR FACE CONSEQUENCES**]
I choked on the water, spraying it across my bedspread.
"Whoa! Easy there." Daniel pounded my back. "Are you okay?"
"You don't see that?" I pointed frantically at the floating text.
"See what?" He followed my gaze with concern. "Elena, you might have a concussion. Maybe we should go to the hospital."
"I'm not concussed!" I protested, though the floating words suggested otherwise. "There's...text. Right there!"
[**USER TUTORIAL INITIATED. WELCOME TO THE SUGAR MOMMY SYSTEM. YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED]
"Oh god, I'm hallucinating." I closed my eyes, then opened them. The text remained.
"You're scaring me, Elena." Daniel pressed a hand to my forehead. "No fever..."
"It says I'm a 'sugar mommy' now," I whispered. "To Sebastian Blackwood."
Daniel stared. "The tech billionaire? From the billboard?" His expression shifted from concern to certainty. "Yep. Hospital time."
"No!" I waved him off, reading more of the floating text. "It's a 'system' that wants me to spoil him. Like, spend money on him."
[**CORRECT. AS SUGAR MOMMY, YOU MUST COMPLETE SPENDING MISSIONS TO MAINTAIN SYSTEM STABILITY AND EARN REWARDS.**]
"With what money?" I laughed hysterically. "I have seventeen dollars until payday!"
Daniel was now looking at me like I might start foaming at the mouth. "Okay, either you have a concussion, or this is an elaborate prank."
"It's not—" I stopped as the orange cat leapt onto my lap, staring intently at the same spot where I saw the floating text. "Look! The cat sees it too!"
"Great. You and the cat are hallucinating together." Daniel sighed. "A match made in heaven."
Before I could argue further, a sharp knock rattled my door.
"Ms. Hart? Are you in there?" The raspy voice of my building manager, Mr. Finch, filtered through the thin wood.
"Hide the cat," I hissed to Daniel. "Pets aren't allowed!"
As Daniel scooped up the orange tabby, I stumbled to the door, running fingers through my tangled hair. I cracked it open to find Mr. Finch's perpetually frowning face, but he wasn't alone.
Standing beside him, looking like he'd stepped out of a magazine cover, was Sebastian Blackwood himself.
My jaw dropped. The actual, real-life version of the billboard face that had nearly crushed me hours ago was now standing outside my dingy apartment, looking mildly inconvenienced by existence itself.
"Ms. Hart," Mr. Finch said with forced cheerfulness. "Sorry to disturb you, but Mr. Blackwood is interested in purchasing the building, and I offered to show him a typical unit!" His eyes darted nervously to Sebastian, then back to me. "Since you're often behind on rent, I figured you couldn't really take offense, right?"
I stood frozen, dimly aware that I was wearing sweatpants with a hole in one knee and a faded university t-shirt that had once been black but was now the color of steam.
Sebastian Blackwood's ice-blue eyes swept over me without emotion, then past me into my apartment. His perfectly tailored charcoal suit probably cost more than my annual tuition.
Shit.
"May we?" Mr. Finch prompted, already pushing the door wider.
"I—um—it's not really—" I stammered, but they were already stepping inside.
Daniel stood in the middle of my studio, the orange cat nowhere in sight. His eyes widened comically at the sight of Sebastian Blackwood.
"Is this a bad time?" Sebastian asked in a deep, clipped voice that suggested he didn't actually care if it was.
"No! Fine! Everything's fine!" I blurted, my default response to crisis. "Just recovering from a little accident."
Sebastian's gaze sharpened slightly. "An accident?"
Before I could explain that his face had nearly killed me, another electronic chime sounded. New text appeared in glowing letters only I could see:
[**TARGET IDENTIFIED IN PROXIMITY**]
[**FIRST MISSION: SPEND $5,000 ON TARGET WITHIN 30 MINUTES OR FACE LEVEL 1 PENALTY**]
[**CURRENT FUNDS: $17.43**]
"Oh no," I whispered.
Mr. Finch mistook my horror for embarrassment at the state of my apartment. "Don't mind the mess, Mr. Blackwood. Most of our units are much more... presentable."
Sebastian ignored him, scanning my tiny home—the futon serving as both bed and couch, the kitchenette with its hot plate and mini-fridge, the stack of textbooks doubling as a nightstand, and my single luxury: a decent coffee maker, currently growing mold in something that might once have been coffee.
"It has... character," Sebastian offered diplomatically.
Daniel, recovered from his shock, extended a hand. "Daniel Kwan. Friend of the tenant."
Sebastian shook it briefly. "Sebastian Blackwood."
"The billboard guy," Daniel said, then winced at his own description.
Sebastian's eyebrow ticked upward minutely. "I prefer 'tech entrepreneur,' but yes."
The system chimed again.
[**WARNING: MISSION CLOCK INITIATED. 29:42 REMAINING. SPEND $5,000 OR FACE PUBLIC HUMILIATION.**]
I needed to sit down. Where was I supposed to get $5,000? And why would Sebastian Blackwood even accept that kind of money from someone like me?
The cat suddenly shot out from under my bed, winding itself around Sebastian's immaculate pant legs. To my surprise, Sebastian knelt down and scratched behind its ears with practiced ease.
"Unusual coloration," he commented. "Almost gold in certain lights."
My jaw dropped. I rushed to pick it back up.
"That's... my cat," I blurted. "Just got him today. After the accident. With your billboard."
Sebastian straightened, his expression unreadable. "My billboard?"
"I think what she means," Daniel cut in smoothly, "is that she had a bit of a fall near one of your company's advertisements earlier today. Mild concussion. She's still a bit confused."
Mr. Finch cleared his throat nervously. "Perhaps we should continue the tour elsewhere, Mr. Blackwood."
Sebastian's eyes roamed my room, dismissing me with just a glimmer of a glance. "Actually, I'd like to hear more about this... accident."
My stomach dropped as the system flashed another warning:
[WARNING: TIME REMAINING 27:30. AMOUNT REMAINING TO SPEND $5,000]