She stood at the threshold of something entirely new.
She wasn’t afraid. She was ready.
Ready to move forward.
To embrace the unknown.
To claim whatever waited on the other side.
Arden raised a fist to knock,and the door opened before she could.
And there was Penny, wild curls framing her face, her outfit a kaleidoscope of clashing colors in constant motion.
Constellations danced across her leggings. A neon-pink sweater radiated its own kind of energy.
“Look who’s here!” Penny practically bounced forward, arms flung wide as if she’d been waiting her whole life for this exact moment.
“Come in already! Your new life starts here or, like, two steps inside. Either way, don’t just stand there.”
Arden froze, momentarily caught off guard by the sheer force of Penny’s exuberance.
But then like rays of light breaking through clouds, she stepped into the hug, letting Penny’s infectious warmth pull her forward. Her defenses didn’t stand a chance.
Weeks of late-night calls and endless texts hadn’t prepared her for Penny in real time. This was something rare. Something real. The start of a friendship that felt like home.
Penny didn’t just comfort. She woke something up as if she stepped into the sunlight after years of shadow.
When Penny finally pulled back, her green eyes sparkled with mischief as she gave Arden a quick once-over. “Oh my God, you’re even cooler in person! And taller than I imagined. Well, not tall-tall, but taller than me, which is basically everyone.”
Her gaze landed on Arden’s shirt: a black tee with equally black words that read,little ray of pitch black.
Penny’s laugh burst out, quick and bright. “Oh, we’re gonna have fun. I knew we’d get along, but that? That graphic seals it.”
Arden gave a half-smile, brushing wind-tossed hair from her cheek. She hadn’t planned the outfit: black tee, worn jeans, scuffed boots. Just what was easy to grab. Clothes for traveling, not arriving.
But Penny made her feel seen, as though she had dressed with intention. Like she belonged here. Like this was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Penny threw the door open wider, revealing an apartment that was equal parts art gallery and thrift-store jackpot. A work of art, but also pure chaos. Vintage posters whispered from the walls. Plants sprawled in mismatched pots. Crystal prisms scattered rainbows across the sunlit room. It felt lived-in. Loved.
An extension of Penny herself: warm and wild. Compared to the spaces Arden had left behind, this one didn’t just exist.
Arden’s past spaces seemed… temporary.
Books leaned in uneven stacks on every surface, competing for attention with quirky figurines and jars filled with who-knew-what. At its heart, a deep blue couch was drowning in pillows, each one clashing magnificently with its neighbors. The whole place seemed alive, vibrating with vitality and charm.
Arden stepped inside, suitcase catching on the threshold as if it, too, hesitated before crossing into something new.
She paused, hyper-aware of herself in her travel-worn clothes, feeling like a faded photograph in a gallery of vibrant portraits.
Penny twirled to face her, reading the hesitation with surprising grace. “I know it’s… a lot,” she said, her grin softening a fraction. “But it has a way of becoming home. And if it doesn’t? No worries. We’ll remake it until it does. I practically have a PhD in space transformation and self-reinvention.”
Arden shook her head quickly, her attention returning to the room. “No… ,” she said, her voice softer now. “It feels… alive.”
Penny’s grin returned full force, lighting up her face. “Come on, let me show you to your room. It’s not as colorful yet, but that’s intentional. A blank canvas for you.”
Penny waved her down the hall to a small bedroom tucked in back.
The walls were a soft, unremarkable cream. Blank, not cold. One window overlooked the street, where fire escapes carved crooked pathsacross brick façades. Muffled voices rose from the street, blending into the hum of the city, present but indistinct.
