It’s My Labubu!
Moonlit Woods:
In the moonlit forest, the leaves whisper like secrets in the dark. Lyra and Max walk hand in hand, wrapped in their private world, as the faint noises of the crew at the old manor fade into the distance.
“Stop, Max… we can’t go any further. It’ll be hard to get back,”
Lyra murmurs, tugging at his hand.
“Are you afraid, honey?”
Max wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close. Before she can answer, his lips find hers, stealing her breath in a sudden kiss.
Her phone rings. The sharp tone cuts through the night. Lyra quickly steps back, fumbling for her mobile.
“Wait, the Production Assistant is calling…”
she starts, but Max leans over and hits the red button, ending the call.
“Max! What are you doing? I need to call back!”
she protests in a whisper.
But Max isn’t listening. His hands pull her close again, his lips tracing her neck with hungry kisses. The heat of his touch spreads through her, and for a moment, she forgets the world under the glowing full moon and the open sky.
The phone rings again… this time, it’s Max’s.
He ignores it. His lips capture hers, igniting sparks that blur the night.
Lyra’s phone rings once more.
She sighs, gently pushing Max back. With effort, she answers… then jerks the phone away as a furious voice bursts out.
“Why are you not picking up? Are we your school teachers here, calling you like a child just to make you show up every time?”
“I’m coming,”
she says humbly. But before she can hang up, Max snatches the phone and powers it off.
“Useless fellow,”
Max mutters.
“He’s the only one working hard here.”
Max is talking about Assistant Production Manager.
Lyra sinks onto a mossy rock.
“They never let us be… even for a moment.”
Her voice is small; her face shadowed with disappointment.
“Just two more years, honey. I swear I won’t renew that disgusting contract.”
Max’s fists tighten as he grinds his teeth.
“You can’t throw away your career when it’s at its peak,”
Lyra whispers, worry clouding her eyes.
“Who want this kind of contract that doesn’t even let me date…”
Max pulls her close again, his voice rough with frustration.
“Let’s go back. It’s at least a fifteen‑minute walk to the manor,”
Lyra insists. She knows she can’t risk their career.
“I saw the sadness in your eyes when I kissed Nora on set. That’s why I wanted to meet you tonight. I can’t stand seeing you hurt.” His voice softens, his love bare and honest.
Lyra knows it’s part of his work. But her heart sometimes rebels when she sees him kiss someone else… even though it’s scripted one.
“I’m not sad… it was just for a moment,”
she whispers, holding his face in her hands before kissing him again, this time with quiet assurance.
Why would he ever stop when her lips meet his? Max deepens the kiss, hungrily devouring her mouth as if he can never get enough. The wet sound of their kisses echoes through the silent, moonlit forest. They are completely lost in each other…
Then… a shadow falls over them, blocking the moonlight pouring from the sky.
Neither of them notices for a few seconds, their eyes still closed, hearts tangled in the heat of the moment. Lyra suddenly feels it… a presence. Her eyes flutter open, and she freezes, Her mouth falls open, eyes wide in shock.
Max pauses, confused. “Why isn’t she kissing me back?” Her body is stiff beneath his hands.
He opens his eyes.
Moonlight no longer shines on them. A dark shape looms, swallowing the silver glow. He turns his head… and his heart skips, gripped by a sharp, primal fear.
“Max… run…”
Lyra finally finds her voice, shoving him as her panic ignites.
They grab each other’s hands and sprint through the trees. But the shadow glides after them… floating, inhuman, soundless. It’s clear this is no person… and no animal either.
Max is fast, his long legs carrying him ahead, but Lyra struggles to keep up. He pulls her along, her steps stumbling. She trips, and in trying to catch her, Max slips and crashes onto a jagged rock, his forehead striking hard.
“Max!”
Lyra gasps, but no sound escapes her throat.
He lies still. Unmoving.
She clings to his arm, her body trembling as the dark shape descends over them. Its glowing eyes are pale, foggy, almost heart‑stopping in its emptiness. She squeezes her eyes shut, bracing for death.
The shadow extends its smoky hands, ready to seize them both… then halts.
Another shape stretches across the forest floor, its long ears pointing like knives in the moonlight. The second shadow approaches from behind them.
The evil shadow recoils, sliding backward as the long‑eared silhouette comes closer.
Lyra dares to open her eyes, gathering all her courage.
The floating shadow retreats… and the one from behind steps forward, massive yet strange… short legs, tiny arms, towering ears.
Her breath hitches as the moonlight finally reveals its face: long eyes… and a mouth of triangular teeth.
“It’s… my Labubu…” she whispers, stunned, crouched beside the unconscious Max.
