?MoonShell?

Chapter 15 - Stitched with Spite

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Brightney's POV

I sat at the table, arms crossed, watching Vee work like a machine—well, she was one. Fabric flipped and twisted under her fingers, stitched clean and tight.

Brightney: It needs to look adorable, not like something that crawled out of a dumpster.

Vee: It's a star plush, not a pageant contestant. Chill.

Brightney: i don't chill, I charm.

I flicked a stray thread off the table. The plush was almost done—soft yellow fabric, a little bow on its side, glitter embroidery to make it seem homemade and sweet. It was perfectly innocent looking.

But inside? Scoffed in the fluff, under the stitching?

A mic. A tracker. A bug.

Brightney: They won't even notice. Astro probably still sleeps with plushies.

Vee: Confirmed. One cat, one moon, and a weird little toaster-shaped one.

Brightney: ...Toaster?

Vee: Don't ask.

She finished the final stitch, snipping the thread. Then held the star plush up with a small smirk.

Vee: Mission complete.

Brightney leaned in closer, checking it. Tight. Clean. No way they'd notice it was anything but a silly gift.

Brightney: Perfect. Now we just have to get it in their hands.

Vee: I could drop it in front of Shelly and pretend I "accidentally" dropped it.

Brightney: No, no, no. That's too obvious. Let's play sweet.

She flipped her hair back with a smug flick.

Brightney: We make it look like a gift. An apology. From me!

Vee looked at her with narrowed, skeptical eyes.

Vee: Apology? From you? Wow. Someone check the thermostat in the underworld.

Brightney: Don't push it, toaster-lover.

Vee giggled but nodded.

Vee: Fine. You'll do your dramatic  "I'm still mad but I'm trying to be the better person" thing.

Brightney: Exactly. I cry a little. Say I didn't want her to feel left out. Boom. She takes the plush. The mic hears and sees everything.

Vee set the plush down between us and paused for a second. She didn't look at me—just stared at the little star.

Vee: ...Why is Astro even protecting her like this, anyway?

Brightney raised a brow.

Brightney: Oh? Someone jealous?

Vee scoffed, too quickly.

Vee: Please. I don't get jealous.

Brightney: You turn green when Astro offers Shelly pancakes.

Vee: I'm already green, Brightney. Not envious. Logical. And concerned.

Brightney smirked and leaned in.

Brightney: Mm-hmm. Sure. Concerned. Not "jealous-but-definitely-over-it."

Vee: Shut up and take the bug plush, Brightney.

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Vee's POV

Brightney takes the plush and leaves the room. I stay behind, arms crossed, staring at the door for a second longer.

Why is Astro protecting her so much?

He used to come to me when he needed plans, repairs, solutions. Now it's all Shelly this, Shelly that.

I roll my eyes and turn to the desk, flipping open my data logs. No, I'm not jealous. I'm just...watching out. That's what logic does. It calculates.

Still. I add one last note to the file before logging out:

Subject Shelly: Observation initiated. Possible influence over Astro—unknown origin. Emotional variables—disruptive.

Then I close the tab.