The morning after Thistle had gotten the news that she had won the auction she had felt like she was hit by a truck. That was nearly all the money she had in her savings account and who knows what weird hidden fees a business that sells cheap land has! She didn't know what to do from here -- she really didn't think she'd win the auction. If she had she wouldn't have entered at all. Late night decisions were early morning regrets, unfortunately for her.

"I have to figure out a way out of this."

She started to call the customer service of the auction house, but hung up. What would she say? What would she tell them? That she was a coward? That she was too afraid to move there? That she had a job that she needed to consider?

Her blood ran cold.

Her job. What was she going to do? She definitely didn't make enough money from streaming to support herself... No side gigs or skills. Maybe if she asked... she could work from home?

Once Thistle had worked out what she was going to say to the auction house, she called.

"Hello, this is Al's Auction House. What do you want?"

"O-oh! Hello! I just won auction 3462 and--" Thistle stammered.

"Congrats, hear that all the time. Cuz this is an auction house. So people win auctions." She sounded annoyed on the otherside. This conversation is already worse than Thistle could have imagined.

"So! That's the problem though! I don't want it. I made mistake. A huge mistake," Thistle spoke quickly before the bubble in her throat got to the surface.

"But you already won. You signed a contract during the bidding process. No takesies-backsies, hon. Payment needs to be submitted in 20 days, sooner the better though." No takesies backsies? She cannot be serious.

"Maybe there is a penalty fee or something I can pay to pull out of the bid? Or maybe someone who wants it for more than I bid who might have missed it?"

"Nope, 20 days. Should have got the instruction packet in the mail. See you then." She hung up.

SHE HUNG UP?!

"I-I'm really stuck, aren't I?" Thistle thought of the night before, where she was desperate to follow some kind of dream. To chase passion. But that was Thistle at 3AM, post stream high. Thistle now wanted the comfort of her every day. To be safe. To not take risks. To do what she always had done. To not make noise. To... not be seen.

Thistle flopped back into bed. "What have I done?"

"I guess its time to figure this out..."