FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It began as another day of drunk soliloquy. Breakfast time was spent motivating myself out of bed, ignoring the hangover and my desire for another screwdriver.

The view itself happened to be the main reason I bought this apartment years ago. The concealed windows in my living room and the master bed overlooked Midtown and the harbor, so one could imagine looking out and seeing the midnight skyline.

By the time I slumbered into the kitchen, thankfully having all the blinds shut, the only things I could find were old cereal and a quart left of expired milk. Unfortunately for me, I realized it one second too late.

"Ack! Fuck..." I spat it out and checked the expiration date. "Ugh, great, great..."

Let me tell you, if it weren't for internet shopping, I probably would have starved a long time ago. The option of going out to buy my own things never worked out in the long run, especially for a name like myself. Before I...'changed', the idea of putting on some casual clothes and joining my former colleagues on a shopping spree would have sounded very divine.

Except, that option died out whenever I stared into a mirror.

Two hours and a couple sips of bourbon later, a knock at the door pulled me from the couch. On cue, I grabbed the nearby blanket off the couch and covered myself in it, the silk fleece fabric smooth to my skin and long enough to engulf my entire form like a long cloak.

Peering through the peephole, I found an impatient Labrador at the door with a bag in each paw. My stomach rumbled, and I carefully unlatched the lock before creaking the door open. He asked me if this was the right address, I nodded and he handed me the bags, then left without another word. The delivery boy then disappeared down the hallway corner towards the elevator, leaving me alone once more.

Setting the bags on the kitchen counter, I poured myself another bowl of fresh cereal and unexpired milk. Any other anthro would be cranky at this point. The moment my spoon went into the bowl though, another knock at the door startled me.

"Ugh," I groaned out loud. Who could it be?

I impatiently bolted for the entrance of the apartment's foyer and stared back out through the peephole. Either one of those Jehovah's Witnesses somehow found their way past security, or this was another delivery I somehow forgot about. Either way, the last thing I wanted was to interact with someone else.

Which was why I didn't expect to see another twenty-something feline on the other side of the door. As opposed to grocery bags, he held a bucket in his right paw, and wore a black apron over his clothes.

He knocked again, making me wince again. I still haven't fully sobered up yet.

"Hello?" the shorter cat spoke. "Does...Does Tristian Hildebrant live here?"

"Who is this?"

His pointed ears fell back slightly at my blunt question.

"My name's Jamal. Jamal Faron," he explained. I could see his thin, spotted tail swish at the hallway carpet. "I was hired by Mr. Janowitz to be your new housekeeper?"

I blinked. "Do you mean Luke Janowitz? Is he a huge Saint Bernard?"

"Uh yeah, your agent. He hired me last week and wanted me to start today. He said he wanted to make it some sort of a surprise."

I groaned through the door. "Sure, sorry. I'll...I'll be right back. Just a sec."

Typical behavior from Janowitz. Storming into my bedroom, I snatched my phone and turned it on to find a voicemail that dated as far back as eight this morning. The dog was most likely up early, given the time zones in California. What did he want from me now? Attempts to lure me back into the public eye? A failed reunion with some cast members? Or perhaps another warning of him coming back to Manhattan and attempt to coax me from my isolation?

"Hey, Tristian. It's Luke..." the voicemail began, "I know you're not going to pick this up, so I better get to the gist of things: I've decided...I've decided to no longer represent you. I've tried being patient with you kid. You've been a great client, gotten some amazing acting gigs and got us both on the map, but ever since you decided to go into this hikikomori phase, the opportunities have been running dry...

"I'm doing this as one last favor for you. Your place is a fucking junkyard, so I hired someone to help clean the place up. He should be there around this afternoon. I've done some background on the serval here, and he's new but has experience. And before you refuse his services, the boy signed a contract with me. While Mr. Faron is aware of your identity, he also has a signed nondisclosure agreement and fifteen reasons an hour not to brag about it. He doesn't know about your...you know, 'condition'. Thank you very much. One less person to see that hideous face, the bett--" The dog coughed on the other end.

"I've been unbelievably patient with you. I've been there for you all these years, but it's time for us to think realistically. I got a family to feed. You have nobody to worry about. I'm sorry...but it's over. Good luck, Tristian. Take care..."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I almost felt tempted to toss my phone out the window or into a solid surface. Forget leaving another hole in the bedroom wall, this bastard was abandoning me! Or...did I abandon him first? Exhaling a deep breath, I set my phone on the nightstand instead. A section of my heart told me to send that housekeeper off until the ringing in my head stopped, or when I finished eating 'breakfast'.

On the other paw, I was surprised to see the serval--Jamal, if I remembered correctly--still standing outside the door when I peeked through the peephole once again. Then I walked back out into the middle of the apartment. I stared back down the foyer and realized how much my cleanliness had deteriorated in the past year or so. Gathering dust, stains and piles of clothes could be found in every room, save for my workout room, also abandoned.

"Faron, right?" I raised my voice, to which the cat twitched his ears attentively. "If you're up for it, I would like to do my own interview with you?"

The serval nodded. "Sure thing."

Before unlocking the door, I quickly placed the bowl of cereal in my bedroom before pulling the door back open, cloak/blanket on me once more. When Jamal stepped inside the apartment, I already fled back into the neighboring kitchen. Away from his sight, but not from mine as I peeked around the corner.

The feline was very handsome and looked fresh from college. Despite his choice in clothes, his sleek, yellow-and-black fur shined alongside his emerald eyes. His toned arms and slender body were impressive for his height, barely standing at no more than half my height. If he discarded the housekeeper apron and undressed for me, the serval would no doubt be eye candy for any acting or modeling agency searching for new talent.

I yanked those thoughts from my mind. Another lifetime ago, I would've relished at the thought of inviting the lad in for small talk and a good time in my bedroom. Feeling his claws run through the fur on my back as I eagerly came inside him (or him in me) seemed divine, except...except it'd all go downhill once he saw my face. Any potential lover or one-night stand would vomit when they realized a monster lived in here.

"So where do you want to have this interview?"

As he came near the kitchen, I quickly went down the adjacent hallway towards the bedroom. The feline followed me until I shut the door closed behind me.

"What the...?" He knocked on my door. "Mr. Hildebrant?"

"This will do!" I growled, then silenced myself. "I'm sorry, I just...I just don't want you to see me..."

"Oh, okay then."

I cleared my throat. "So...My former agent mentioned you were new to housekeeping?"

"Yes," the feline replied a moment later. "I used to work as a housekeeper in the Eldorado and at a few hotels in Queens. Never been to Park Avenue though. Never done any of the super-fancy apartments like this."

"Queens, eh?" I murmured to myself. "Where are you from then?"

"Baycrest Towers, it's an apartment complex in Brooklyn, sir."

"Do you smoke or drink?"

"I never smoke. My mom is on-again and off-again, so I might smell like nicotine on some days, but I promise I don't smoke..."

"Where do you see yourself in a few years?"

"Uh...working for you diligently."

Liar. Nobody liked housekeeping as a hobby.

"Did Janowitz tell you about your duties here?" I asked once more, placing my ear to the wooden frame to listen better. "What were the terms of your contract?"

"Two months in total with three days a week. I'll be here Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, but never the weekend. I got to babysit my sister on those days. Mr. Janowitz also mentioned...ya know," he stalled, "Your eccentricities."

"My eccentricities?"

"Yeah. Though he never mentioned you liked dressing like a dark lord." The feline finished with a laugh. When I didn't reply back, his voice turned tense. "I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to offend you or anything, M-Mr. Hildebrant! I'm sorry if--"

"You're fine," I gripped onto the cloth entwined with my fingers and came to a conclusion. "Your duties are simple enough: wash the countertops, take out the trash, dust everything you see, vacuum the carpets, clean the bathrooms and such...The supplies are in the kitchen right beside the pantry."

"Do you want me to wash the windows too?" Jamal asked. "Sorry if it sounds like a dumb question, but I just--"

"Clean it too." I almost stepped away from the door. "By the way, before you get started, remember that the master bedroom here is off limits. I'll always be in there whenever you're cleaning. If you have any questions, then knock. Go in without permission, and you're fired."

I glanced back into my bedroom and wondered what he would think if he saw the state of it. The first few nights were spent in agony and misery, smashing every photo I had hung upbroken into crooked spiderwebs of glass. A hole in the wall opposite my bed came from the night a private eye I hired couldn't find the bastard who did this to me, like the coyote witch disappeared without a trace. I even smashed my TV when the screen's black mirror refused to show anything other than my repulsive face.

Oh well, I still had my laptop. Grabbing another bottle from my minifridge, I turned it on and proceeded to waste the next two to three hours while Jamal went to work.

*You can read the rest of my story in Once a-Fawn a Time, a published anthology by Bound Tales. *