Chapter 4: Losing Ground, Gaining a Hero

I hesitated, went to his profile, and sent him a DM. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Should I be casual? Go full drama queen?

Me: How’ve you been lately? Everything regular, bathroom-wise?

I cringed as I typed it, but hey, sometimes you gotta break the ice.

Just as I was about to send it, I saw a like notification from him. I quickly deleted my message, but accidentally sent it instead.

Classic Maddie move. My thumb’s got a mind of its own.

From Your Moon: Normal.

One word. Mysterious as ever.

My gut told me he was lying—he was too shy to admit the truth.

I pictured him, blushing behind his screen, too embarrassed to confess.

Me: Don’t be embarrassed, constipation’s normal. Even beauties like me get constipated. No shame in it.

I figured honesty was the best policy. If you can’t talk about bathroom stuff, are you even friends?

From Your Moon: Thanks.

I could almost see him sighing with relief.

My biggest flaw is being too empathetic—I worry about other people’s problems more than my own. Always have. Maybe that’s why people like coming to my cart.

Today, when I got to my spot, it was taken. The only open spot left was by the dumpsters.

The smell was… not great. Ugh. I wrinkled my nose, trying to make the best of it.

My loyal fans were arguing with the fruit salad vendor who’d taken over.

They were waving their phones, showing pictures of me at the spot. The fruit salad guy just shrugged.

“This spot belongs to MacQueen Maddie!”

One girl stamped her foot, her voice rising over the crowd.

“Yeah, our hon’s been here for days!”

Another chimed in, arms crossed, not backing down.

The fruit salad guy sneered. “You didn’t buy this spot, and there’s no name on it. First come, first served.”

He was right, technically. But it still stung.

He had a point—couldn’t argue with that.

I sighed, knowing there was no winning this one.

My favorite sweet girl tried, “But we saved this spot for hon. You came later than us.”

She pouted, eyes wide, but the fruit salad guy just rolled his eyes.

Fruit salad guy waved them off. “Move along, don’t block my business.”

He was already setting up, ignoring the crowd.

No one was really right or wrong—it was public space. Anyone could set up a cart there. Still, it stung.

I tried to keep the peace, not wanting things to get ugly.

I cleared my throat. “Hons, let’s just skip today.”

I raised my hands in surrender, hoping to calm everyone down.

Everyone went full drama, crying and wailing. Oscars all around.

“MacQueen Maddie, don’t leave me~”

One girl clung to my arm, refusing to let go.

“Hon, don’t go, I can’t live without you.”

She wiped fake tears from her cheeks, looking up at me with puppy eyes.

“The first second without hon, and I already miss you.”

Someone in the back even played a sad violin song on their phone. Theatrics, 10/10.

I twitched my lips. “If you really miss me, just message in the group—I’m alive, no need to panic.”

I tried to lighten the mood, but it only made them more dramatic.

Jesse came over, holding a printed lease. “My family owns a bakery by the back gate. You can use the big patio there.”

He handed me the paper—a lease stating rent was just ten bucks a day, only for the days I used, with no extra fees for utilities or furniture.

He was all business, but there was a softness in his eyes. It was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in ages.

Jesse took me to see the bakery. It was fancy, with AC.

The place was gorgeous—high ceilings, twinkling lights, and the smell of fresh bread everywhere. I felt like I’d just stepped into a dream.

I couldn’t help asking, “Are you doing charity or something?”

I eyed him, suspicious. Nobody’s that nice without a reason.

“It’s just for fun, not to make money. The bakery will stay open, all licenses are in order. You can run promotions—buy mac and cheese, get a free cupcake. Do whatever makes you happy, I’ll cover it.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, but I knew it was a big deal. My heart did a little flip.

Jesse—you’re my hero. Seriously, where do I find more of you?

I wanted to hug him, but I settled for a grateful smile. Sometimes, that’s enough.

Day seven: upgraded. I finally had shelter from wind and rain.

I snapped a picture of the patio, captioned: "Big moves, big dreams."

Just as I started prepping ingredients, my roommate looked at me.

She leaned in, eyes wide with excitement.

“Maddie, there’s a mixer tonight. Aren’t you going?”

She waggled her eyebrows, like she knew something I didn’t.

I shrugged. “A mixer’s not as important as making money.”

I tried to sound practical, but my curiosity was piqued.

“But they’re all six-foot guys with abs!”

She fanned herself dramatically. I rolled my eyes, but inside, I was intrigued.