AN: Slightly unedited. Let me know if there are any mistakes. I'll fix them.

  Words: 3k

  ---

  Max sat on the edge of the folding bed with Caroline pacing behind her like a hamster on too much caffeine. Chestnut, their beloved (and somewhat judgmental) horse, stared at them with a look that said, 'So, what's the pn, humans?' His expression was a perfect mix of curiosity and disdain, like a high school principal who just found out you clogged the toilet with paper towels.

  Max took her phone out of her pocket and dialed Alex's number. She threw a conspiratorial look at Caroline. "Watch and learn, Blondie. This is how you handle a sugar daddy."

  Caroline whispered, "Are you sure it's okay to call him? It's, like, midnight."

  Max shrugged. "He's in Tokyo. It's a totally reasonable hour for him. Plus, he's our sugar daddy. Sugar daddies love te-night calls, right?"

  Caroline smacked her arm. "Stop calling him that! He helps us out, yeah. But he's not your sugar daddy."

  Max's lips curled into a wicked grin. "Ok. Our sugar daddy. Happy? Geez, so jealous."

  The phone rang twice before Alex's voice came through, smooth as ever. "Max? Everything okay?"

  "Hey, Moneybags! Quick question... how do you feel about emergency horse storage?"

  There was a pause. "Emergency... what now?"

  Max shot Caroline a look, mouthing stay calm. "Yeah, so, tiny issue. We found my passport, yay! But, uh, we also realized we can't exactly bring Chestnut with us. You know, because international flights frown on a horse in economy css. Shocking, I know."

  Alex chuckled. "Yeah, airlines can be so picky. What do you need?"

  Caroline leaned in, whispering, "Be polite! Be professional!"

  Max shooed her away. "Basically, we need a safe pce for Chestnut while we're gone. Somewhere with, like, food and maybe a stable. You know, typical horse hotel stuff. Do those exist?"

  "I can make a call," Alex said without hesitation. "I'll have someone pick him up in the morning. He'll be in good hands."

  Caroline's eyes widened, and she mouthed, 'He said yes?'

  Max gave her a thumbs-up. "Oh my God, thank you! You're the best. I promise he's not too high-maintenance. He mostly just eats and judges us. You know, like a horsey version of Gordon Ramsay."

  Alex ughed. "I think we can handle him. He'll be more comfortable than us, probably. You two just focus on getting ready for the trip."

  "Will do. And don't worry, he doesn't bite. Well, not unless you're holding a carrot and hesitating. He doesn't respect indecisiveness."

  "I'll make sure to pass that along," Alex said, his voice ced with amusement. "Anything else? Do I need to hire a raccoon whisperer or snake charmer, too?"

  Max smirked. "Nope, just the horse. Unless you've got a guy who handles squirrels. They've been looking at me funny tely, and I don't trust them."

  "I'll add it to the list," he said, and Max could practically hear his smile. "Try to get some sleep. I'll see you both soon."

  Max hung up, turning to Caroline with a triumphant grin. "Boom! Problem solved. Our sugar daddy's got it covered."

  Caroline groaned but couldn't hide her relief. "Okay, fine. He's amazing. But please, for the love of all things holy, stop calling him that."

  Max winked. "You know, I would. But it bothers you so much, and that's, like, 90% of my motivation in life."

  Caroline flopped onto the bed, exhausted. "At this point, I'll take it. Just as long as Chestnut is safe and we're not banned from Tokyo before we even get there."

  Max stretched out next to her. "See? Everything's working out. We're going to Tokyo, our horse is getting the royal treatment, and you might get to flirt with Mr. Frost-Your-Cupcakes."

  Caroline threw a pillow over her face. "If I suffocate, it's your fault."

  Max snorted. "If you die, I'm still going to Tokyo. I'll take selfies with samurai swords and bring you back a souvenir. Maybe a little shrine charm for 'Roommate Ghosts Who Haunt the Living.'"

  Caroline's muffled voice groaned from under the pillow. "I'm going to sleep. Wake me up if Chestnut tries to break in or if you have another 'genius' idea that requires bail money."

  Max turned off the light, a satisfied smile lingering on her face. "Night, Blondie. Dream of sushi and cherry blossoms. And maybe a little frosting... on cupcakes, of course."

  Caroline let out a dramatic sigh, but Max could hear the tiny ugh hidden under it. With Chestnut taken care of and their Tokyo adventure just a sunrise away, Max finally allowed herself to close her eyes, ready for whatever craziness awaited them.

  As for Chestnut, he continued chewing on the grass, blissfully unaware that he was about to experience a luxury vacation of his own.

  [Morning]

  The morning sunlight slipped through the dusty window blinds, casting streaks of light over the chaotic apartment. Max and Caroline were up before the arm, a rare and miraculous event. The combination of adrenaline and the promise of Tokyo had them wide awake and moving like two very excited, slightly disorganized tornadoes.

  Max darted into the bathroom first, shouting over the running water, "I call first shower! Last time, you used up all the hot water, and I had to wash my hair in what felt like gcier runoff!"

  Caroline, rummaging through her neatly packed suitcase, rolled her eyes. "You spent twenty minutes singing show tunes. What did you expect? And, for the record, your rendition of 'Defying Gravity' is not worth hypothermia."

  Max's voice echoed from the bathroom, "It was worth it, and you know it! I hit those high notes like a pro. Besides, if I can survive an ice shower, I can handle whatever Tokyo throws at me!"

  Fifteen minutes ter, Max emerged, hair wrapped in a towel and steam billowing out behind her like she'd just exited a rock concert. "All yours, Blondie! Try not to use all the shampoo. I don't want to smell like vender and anxiety again."

  Caroline zipped past her, clutching her toiletry bag. "If I smell like anxiety, it's because of you!"

  As Caroline showered, Max pulled on her best pair of ripped jeans, a soft bck T-shirt, and a red pid shirt tied around her waist. She opted for her trusty combat boots—the same ones she wore when they escaped that particurly aggressive bachelorette party at the diner.

  By the time Caroline emerged, fresh-faced and smelling like vanil, Max had already crammed her essentials into a duffel bag. Caroline, on the other hand, had neatly folded her clothes into a small, tidy suitcase. The two bags sitting side by side were a perfect metaphor for their personalities. Max's looked like it had been packed by a hurricane, and Caroline's resembled a dispy in a travel agency window.

  A text buzzed on Max's phone. She read it out loud. "Your car is waiting downstairs. Safe travels. —A"

  Caroline's eyes widened. "He really did send a car! I thought you were joking."

  Max threw on her denim jacket, adjusting her colr with a smirk. "Oh, ye of little faith. Our sugar daddy delivers. Come on, let's go see how the other half travels."

  [Outside]

  The bck SUV parked at the curb was as sleek as a panther in a tuxedo. The driver, a well-dressed man with a crisp bck suit and an expression of quiet professionalism, stepped out and opened the door for them.

  Max whistled. "Damn. I feel like we're about to go rob a bank in style. Or get recruited by the Men in Bck."

  Caroline elbowed her. "Stop it. Act normal. Like we do this all the time."

  Max snorted. "If I act normal, we'll end up hitchhiking to the airport. I'm bringing my A-game today."

  They slid into the back seat, and Caroline's eyes immediately widened at the fully stocked snack bar and the soft leather seats. Max grabbed a bottle of water and a pack of gummy bears, reclining as if she'd been riding in private cars her whole life.

  "Ah!" Caroline took a deep breath as she leaned back. "It's been a while..." She was in tears remembering her old rich life.

  Max just patted her shoulder.

  [Private Airport]

  The SUV pulled up to a private terminal, bypassing the usual chaos of the main airport. There was no TSA line, no overworked staff yelling about liquids, and no crying babies. Just a quiet terminal with floor-to-ceiling windows and a pristine runway beyond.

  A sleek white jet sat waiting, the kind of pne that only existed in movies or the Instagram stories of influencers. The name "Wilson" was subtly printed near the door, which was open and ready for boarding.

  Max stood at the bottom of the stairs, her mouth open. "Holy crap. I thought it would be a nice pne, but I didn't think it would be... a supermodel pne."

  Caroline grabbed Max's hand, dragging her up the stairs. "Come on. If you stare too long, they might think we're lost."

  Inside, the pne was a wondernd of luxury. Plush leather seats, soft lighting, and wood paneling that gleamed like it had just been polished by someone who really loved their job. There were individual recliners, a couch, and even a small dining area. A rge ft-screen TV hung on the wall, and a mini bar glowed with soft backlighting.

  Max immediately bee-lined for the fridge, popping it open. "Oh my God, Blondie, they have tiny sandwiches! And not the sad kind, either... these are the kind with cucumber and no crusts!"

  Caroline ughed, settling into one of the reclining seats. "This is amazing. I feel like I'm going to wake up any second and find out I'm still in our apartment, surrounded by the smell of burnt toast."

  Max grabbed a sandwich, a bottle of soda, and plopped down next to Caroline. "Pinch yourself. This is happening. We're two broke girls on a billionaire's jet, heading to Tokyo. If I'm dreaming, I'm never waking up."

  The flight attendant, a friendly woman with a polished smile, approached them. "Good morning, dies. We'll be taking off shortly. If you need anything, just let me know."

  Max leaned over to Caroline, whispering, "Do you think she knows we're not rich? Should I try to sound fancy? Maybe ask for 'seltzer with a twist'?"

  Caroline grinned. "Just be yourself. But maybe don't ask if they have hot dogs. Keep the mystery alive."

  Max flopped back in her seat, her grin wide. "You're right. I'm gonna py it cool. Like, 'Oh yes, darling, I'll take a gss of your finest... whatever doesn't cost extra.'"

  As the pne began to taxi down the runway, Max and Caroline shared a look, one that said everything. This was real. They were really doing this. And for the first time in a long time, things felt like they were looking up.

  Max reached over, grabbing Caroline's hand. "Buckle up, Blondie. We're going to Tokyo."

  Caroline squeezed her hand back, her smile soft but wide. "Ready as I'll ever be."

  The pne sped up, and as it lifted off the ground, so did their spirits. Somewhere below, Chestnut was likely being chauffeured to his own fancy new digs, probably munching on designer hay.

  [A few minutes ter...]

  Max, fully embracing the luxury of the private jet, had already kicked off her boots and was wandering around the cabin like a kid in a candy store. Caroline, ever the responsible one, had buckled herself into her seat and was browsing through the in-flight movie selection with a mix of awe and disbelief.

  "Okay, they have literally every movie ever made," Caroline murmured. "Even that weird French film where everyone was just whispering and staring out of windows."

  Max wasn't listening. She had found the kitchenette, complete with a stainless steel fridge and a freezer drawer that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel suite. She pulled it open, half expecting to find, like, fancy ice cubes or maybe an entire lobster on ice. Instead, she found a drawer packed with tiny, perfectly beled containers.

  "Caroline!" she hissed. "Get over here. The rich have snacks I can't even identify!"

  Caroline, torn away from an episode of The Great British Bake Off, sighed but got up to join her. "What is it now?"

  Max held up a small, gss container. "Look! There's geto! And not just any geto—this says 'Saffron Pistachio' and 'Rosewater Cardamom.' What kind of fvors are these? Did they just wander into a spice market and say, 'Yes, all of it, please'?"

  Caroline's eyes widened. "Is this... caviar?" She picked up a tiny jar with a bel in French. "Oh my God. This jar probably costs more than our rent."

  Max popped open a container of geto, scooping a bit with her finger and tasting it. "Holy crap. It's like eating a sunset. And not the cheap kind... the expensive kind with the pink and gold. You need to try this."

  Caroline hesitated. "Isn't this for... you know, important people? What if it's meant for, like, Tom Hanks or Helen Mirren?"

  Max scooped a bigger bite. "If Tom Hanks wanted this, he should've gotten on the pne first. Open up, Blondie."

  Before Caroline could protest, Max shoved the spoonful of geto into her mouth. Her eyes widened, and a blissful look washed over her face. "Okay... yeah, that's ridiculous. What else do they have?"

  The two of them rummaged through the freezer like raccoons in a dumpster, unearthing tiny, gourmet popsicles, pre-made sushi rolls, and an entire tray of macarons. Max stuffed a macaron into her mouth, her eyes lighting up. "Mmf! These are like little cookies from heaven."

  Caroline ughed, popping a tiny sushi roll into her mouth. "If this is how the other half lives, I'm never going back."

  Max pulled out a box from the bottom shelf of the freezer. "Ooh, what's this? Pre-made cocktail popsicles? They've got mojito, pi?a coda, and... get this... frozen sangria!"

  Caroline took one of the icy treats, tearing off the wrapper. "Okay, I officially love this pne. I don't even care if we're flying to Tokyo or Timbuktu. As long as there are more of these, I'm on board."

  [The Bar]

  After clearing out a reasonable portion of the freezer's treasures, Max set her sights on the jet's bar. It was a sleek, fully stocked setup with bottles of alcohol that looked like they were distilled by monks in a secret mountain monastery.

  Max ran her fingers over the crystal bottles, reading bels that sounded more like fairy tales than booze. "Caroline, I think I just found the Holy Grail. And it's filled with gin."

  Caroline leaned over the bar, her fingers brushing over a set of polished shakers and a tray of fresh citrus fruits. "Are we allowed to make our own drinks? Isn't there a flight attendant for that?"

  Max grabbed a shaker, giving it a little toss. "Please. We can't just sit back and let someone else do the work. Where's the fun in that? Besides, I've seen like, every episode of Bar Rescue. How hard can it be?"

  Caroline took a cautious step back. "Famous st words. Just... promise me you won't set anything on fire. Or accidentally invent a new kind of explosive."

  Max ignored her, already assembling her ingredients. She found a cocktail recipe book stashed under the bar and flipped through the pages. "Let's see... Old Fashioned? Boring. Martini? Too James Bond. Ah-ha! A Tokyo Sunset. Perfect."

  She poured a spsh of gin, a bit of lychee liqueur, and a hint of grenadine into the shaker, then squeezed a lime over the mix. She added ice, spped on the shaker top, and started shaking with a rhythm that suggested either natural talent or pure, unfiltered chaos.

  Caroline watched with a mix of horror and amusement. "You're going to spill that everywhere."

  Max rolled her eyes. "Rex. I've got this. Watch and learn."

  She pulled off the shaker lid and began to pour the drink into a fancy gss—except, halfway through, the top slipped off, and a cascade of pink liquid spshed across the bar. A few drops even hit the ceiling.

  Caroline burst out ughing. "Oh my God, Max! What did I say?"

  Max held up the gss, now half full, and grinned. "It's fine! The pne needed a little color. It's an art instaltion. I call it 'Oops, I Did It Again.'"

  She wiped up the spill with a napkin, then handed the gss to Caroline. "Here. You're the first victim—uh, I mean, taste tester."

  Caroline took a cautious sip, her eyebrows shooting up. "Whoa... this is actually good. Like, really good. How did you...?"

  Max leaned against the bar, a cocky grin on her face. "Talent, Blondie. Pure, unadulterated talent. And maybe a bit of luck. Mostly luck."

  The two of them made a few more drinks, each one a little more colorful and creatively named than the st. By the time the flight attendant came by to check on them, the bar looked like a tropical storm had hit it, with citrus peels and tiny umbrels strewn everywhere.

  The flight attendant, ever professional, just smiled. "Can I get you dies anything else?"

  Max, holding a blue and purple concoction she had dubbed 'The Jet Lag Jamboree,' raised her gss. "We're good! Just enjoying the view. And, uh, experimenting with mixology. Hope we're not breaking any airpne ws."

  The attendant gave them a nod. "Not at all. Feel free to let me know if you'd like a proper cocktail menu or if you need help finding more ingredients."

  Caroline, now a bit giggly from the cocktails, whispered to Max, "I think we've been adopted by the rich people. We're like those kids at the party who everyone knows shouldn't be there, but no one wants to kick us out because we're fun."

  Max clinked her gss against Caroline's. "Damn right. Here's to living the high life, even if it's just for a few days. Tokyo, here we come!"

  Well, mid flight, both fell asleep...

  ----[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS PLS]----

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  [7 advance chs] [All chs avaible for all tiers] ------

  Next Ch: 43 [Arrival]

  Ch: 44 [Fashion & sush