Chapter 4 – Private Property
He messaged her with a date—next week, mid-afternoon.
Just a simple "See you then" and an address to follow.
When the day came, Celeste booked a Grab and leaned into the seat, scrolling idly on her phone as the car wound its way past terrace houses and older landed properties. She rarely came to areas like this—not because they were unfamiliar, but because they were worlds away from her daily routine.
The car stopped in front of a quiet, gated home. It wasn’t a mansion, but the kind of house that made you wonder who lived there. A helper opened the gate before she even rang the bell.
He met her at the entrance, casual in a tee and shorts. “Hey,” he said. “Come on in.”
The house was cool, polished marble under her sandals, ceiling fans spinning overhead. There was a faint echo when she stepped in—high ceilings, maybe. It was clear the place had money behind it, but not in a showy way. There were two helpers around , both moving quietly in the background, minding their own business.
Family portraits lined one of the walls, clearly old. His parents, it seemed, were rarely home—always somewhere abroad for business. That left him with a big house and a lot of quiet.
She followed him through the hallway, clutching her tote bag. She’d worn a light, casual outfit—a fitted cropped tee and a flared skirt. It suited her frame, light and airy for the heat. Without the wig and makeup, her real features stood out more—soft jawline, short bangs brushed aside, petite figure, her modest B-cup chest less exaggerated without the usual cosplay push-up bra.
He glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening a bit. “Honestly, you look really different like this.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Worse?”
He laughed. “No. More natural. You’re actually… really cute.”
Her cheeks warmed, and she looked away. “Don’t say weird things.”
They reached a door at the end of the hall. He opened it to reveal what looked like a personal studio room—lined with anime figures, a few framed fan art pieces, and the unmistakable presence of someone deep into this hobby. A camera was set up on a tripod near a white backdrop, with softboxes and LED lighting in place. It was neat, focused. Legit.
“That’s the changing area,” he said, pointing to a door on the side. “You can get ready there.”
She stepped inside, eyeing the space cautiously. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him—but the idea of changing in someone else’s home naturally came with its worries. “No hidden cameras or anything, right?”
He held up both hands. “Nope. I swear. That’s not my thing.”
She gave a small nod and stepped into the changing room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Alone, she opened her bag and pulled out her cosplay—folded carefully and still smelling faintly of detergent.
Her heart beat a little faster. This wasn’t a public event or a con. It was a private shoot, in someone else’s home. A stranger, even if he seemed decent so far.
If this worked out, she could afford at least a week’s worth of meals—maybe even treat herself to that bubble tea she’d been craving. That small comfort gave her just enough courage to unzip the rest of her bag and start changing.
She slipped out of her casual white top and unbuttoned her light denim skirt, folding them neatly and placing them on the side table. Underneath, she already had on the base layer of her cosplay—just like at the event. It saved her time, and frankly, she didn’t have a second outfit to spare.
Piece by piece, she reassembled the full costume—adjusting the choker, fixing her sleeves, and pulling on the signature gloves. The same look she had worn at the event, the one that had caught his attention. She gave the mirror a glance as she tightened the final strap. It still fit perfectly.
This was her only cosplay for now, but it was the one that made her feel most like herself—or at least the version of herself she wished she could be more often. Confident. Composed. Maybe even captivating.
She brushed a hand down the front of her costume, checking her reflection one last time. Her heart beat a little faster, but she straightened her posture and breathed in deep.
Showtime.
To be continue