dinohigh, no humans allowed!

I greeted Park with my usual fake manicured smile, and she actually looked happy to see me.

How off-putting.

We walked through the mall. Its outside bargain markets and stalls were busy and crowded, the din of chatter and bartering filling the air, but once we actually entered the interior, the halls were eerily empty. It was almost abandoned. Shops were having their last sales; everything was on clearance. The focus was entirely on getting rid of inventory. A lot of them had already closed. The lots that were empty seemed to have been vacant for a long time. The tiled floors, once polished to a mirror sheen, now bore scuffs and scratches, and the flickering lights cast uneven shadows over shuttered storefronts.

It didn't have the same lively energy as outside—probably because of how people just had less money now. Well, dinosaurs did, anyway. As I looked around and we went up the higher floors, there were more empty lots and closing stores, but also more new stores—non-dino brands. They stood out with sleek logos, minimalist designs, and unfamiliar names. Not many people were buying from them, but I was happy to see them. Park didn't really like that. She saw me smiling and said, "You don't really like those immigrant brands, do you, Anon?"

I quickly changed my attitude and smiled, feigning my usual nonchalance. "Of course not, Park. I'm just laughing at how delusional the market is to let classics die in the name of these upstarts with no prestige or legacy."

She smiled back, her crest bobbing slightly with amusement. "Hmmm, I guess you're right. It is kinda funny in a bitter, ironic sort of way. Hehehe."

Internally, I chastised her. This idiot doesn't know that all these "non-brands" have been around longer than dino brands. They're over thousands of years old. But dinos won't recognize them; they only buy from each other.

She sighed, breaking my thoughts. "My favorite brand closed here. Damn. I guess I have to go pick another store, but I don't know their inventory, so it might take us longer to find something in my size."

I looked at her, confused. "Uh, don't dinos carry all dino sizes?"

She looked at me like I was some sort of idiot. "No, stupid. Dumb monkey. How the hell can they carry over a thousand species' different body types? The store we were gonna buy from specializes in Parasaurolophuses like me. But I'm gonna have to settle for a Hadrosaur store now."

"Uhh, is there a difference?" I asked.

She shook her head as if she couldn't believe how dumb the question was. Normally, I wouldn't push it, but I was genuinely curious. I wanted to know what she meant by this, so I accepted looking stupid for once.

She explained it, her tone taking on a slightly condescending edge. "I am not a broad Hadrosaur. I'm a Corythosaur, a more specific group in the larger Hadrosaur family. Not only do specialist brands pander to specific species, but they also cater to specific age groups because dinos vary heavily from one growth stage to another. Each growth stage of a different group varies widely in dimensions from close relatives. Most clothes cannot fit me. Their hips and chest are too small, their neck holes in shirts don't fit my head because of my head crest, most pants can't fit the base of my tail, and most jackets won't fit the width and girth of my shoulders."

She motioned toward a nearby clothing rack, pointing at a loose-fitting jacket designed with generic Hadrosaur dimensions in mind. "The proportions of Hadrosaurs as a group are so varied and wide that 'catch-all' brands for Hadrosaurs have to make the clothes very loose and very general. So, it's not the sleek-looking clothes I normally wear. Those are all designer."

Personally, as a human, I couldn't relate. Humans never wore their own brand. We always just scrambled up clothes from different dinosaur brands or non-dino brands and wore what we could.

She picked out clothes in a shop, looking them up and down, occasionally flipping a tag or running her clawed fingers over the fabric. The store was dimly lit, with cheap racks squeezed together and sales signs plastered everywhere: "EVERYTHING MUST GO!" and "FINAL DAYS!" The air smelled faintly of plastic and desperation. The outfits she inspected weren't too flashy—well, nothing more whorish than what she was already wearing, at least. Decent by her standards, and probably by dino standards. I guess being the apex species means you aren't afraid to walk around half-clothed everywhere.

Or maybe it's because they can hit as hard as a bus, run as fast as a car, and get shot and say it's just a flesh wound. Their bodies are so strong. Or maybe it's the fact dinos are just pretty and enjoy showing off—to each other, to non-dinos, and probably, in Park's case, to me. She kept trying to do it, and I just kept looking away. I could tell this upset her, but she was always kinda smiling and blushing after I looked away, like she was having fun.

As she continued browsing, I ranted about some brands: Skimosaurus, Kalvin Klienosaur, Eberjayasaurus, Victoria's T-Rex. "How come these expensive brands have sizes for all dinos?" I asked.

Park remarked casually, "They don't. They only have sizes to fit the main species of dinos. For some, it fits all other relative species, but for others, it fits only them. They only make clothes for Stegosaurs, Parasaurolophuses, Triceratops, Ankylosaurs, Raptors, and Rexes. Some dino families, like Triceratops, have similar dimensions in body types to their relatives, so they have a wider market. But others, like Stegosaurs, have specialized spikes on their backs, which makes clothing each and every unique one difficult. So only the most important species get clothes."

I looked at her weird. "What do you mean 'important species'?"

She smirked, her sharp teeth glinting slightly. "Oh, Anon, you're so silly. Do you really think all dinos are as pretty as the apexes? No, no, they are not. You see, most of the world is ruled by dinosaurs—that's true. But most dinosaurs are ruled by the dominant species of their group. They're either the most numerous or just the most iconic. They are usually the apex Saurastar of the species family."

I looked at her, still confused. "Uh, isn't Saurastar supposed to unite all dinos? And also, like, non-dinos too?"

Park waved her finger at me. "Silly Anon, you are so dumb." She patted my head like I was some kind of pet. "A Saurastar determines if a species is brought to prominence within their group, in the eyes of other dinosaurs, and even in the eyes of stupid animals like you, Anon. Hehehe." She giggled, clearly enjoying herself. She probably thought I was dumb as hell, but I'd honestly never noticed this about dinosaurs. I always just assumed they were all in it together to screw everyone else over. But I guess they're just so malicious that they have to screw each other over too.

She smiled again, her tail swishing slightly behind her. "You know, I dress for myself to feel pretty, but I also put effort in for you, Anon." She wagged her tail and put her arm around me. I froze, glancing at her uncomfortably.

"Uhh, what do you mean, Park?"

She blushed and smiled timidly, something I hadn't seen from her before. "Well, you know, it's nice not competing with someone all the time. And you're just so trash, so low-level. And I'm just out of your league."

"Uh-huh," I said, moving her hand off me. "Glad to be graced by your presence, Park," I added sarcastically, letting my venomous tone slip out. I didn't feel like putting up with this until I reminded myself to compose myself again, sighing and putting that stupid smile back on. "I hate dinosaurs," I mumbled.

Park probably heard me and chuckled. "Heheheheh, silly animal. But to further explain my point on Saurastar…"

She continued, completely unbothered, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "You asked why dinos try so hard to be one? Well, you see, Parasaurolophus wasn't always the dominant Hadrosaur. Nope. It was during my great-great ancestors' generation that we finally took the title as representatives for Hadrosaurs in media, pop culture, culture in general, branding, business, and administration from the Iguanodonts. Being a Saurastar is very important, Anon. If one day someone else from the Hadrosaurs becomes the Saurastar, maybe then I won't be the Saurastar. Or any Parasaurolophus."

Her proud tone disappeared for a moment, revealing a rare crack in her confidence. She was actually talking to me like a friend. Gross.

She continued, her voice quieter now. "Iguanodonts are far enough away from my family that we can both be Saurastars. But my family is more influential, and also my species is more influential. That's why when you think of Hadrosaur, you think of us Parasaurolophus instead. We are the face of it. But if anyone from the Corythosaurs were to win and become Saurastar, they'd replace me. Or if the Iguanodonts became Saurastar again and actually became more popular, they'd replace Corythosaurs. And you'd think of Iguanodontids instead of us."

I never thought of it that way. I never realized how the species that came to mind when thinking of dinosaurs, their perception to other species, was also carefully curated by dinosaurs. This made me feel unwell. Even when I hated dinosaurs, they still had control over me. They decided who I would hate. They decided the face of the person who would cause me misery. This made me sick to my stomach, realizing how much power they held over me. I hated it.

Park looked at me weird. "Uhh, Anon? Are you okay?" she asked, sounding more concerned than usual. It wasn't like her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied.

She probably sensed I wasn't really fine and shifted the subject. "Well, uhh, what clothes do you like, Anon?" she asked. "You've only listed dino brands. I mean, I know you humans can't stop looking at beautiful dinos in pictures," she smiled, blushing. I frowned.

She continued, "But, what do you actually wear?"

There was no one to pander to us. I remembered having to modify even my uniform for my old job. I sighed. "Fine, just buy whatever, Park. I'll sew it to fit your dimensions."

She tilted her head. "Woah? What? What are you, my nanny? I didn't know you could sew, Anon, let alone modify clothes for dinosaurs."

I sighed again. "Well, uhh, my parents did. It's a good business for humans to modify existing clothes for dinos to fit non-dinos. Or if a dino wanted the style or aesthetic of another species' brand but didn't want to custom-make one, they hired us for alterations. Also, we had to make our own clothes anyway, and that took specialist equipment. So might as well make it for other people too since we have the skills."

Park looked at me weird, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Wow. What useful skills useless monkeys make for themselves." She smiled smugly. "See, this is the kind of spirit I want from other dinosaurs. They're so lazy they can't work to feed themselves, but look at you here: an inferior, disgusting warmblood making themselves so useful to us." She patted my head as I felt a boiling anger and annoyance that I tried really hard not to show. She could sense it; she was teasing me. But why so direct? Why now? The day had barely begun.

In Park's thoughts, "Aww, look at his little flustered face. I love it when my human gets mad. They're always so cute. So useful. He really is a catch. He knows how to sew, he knows brands, and he works hard."

But then doubt crept into her mind. "What if he only loved me because I was the Saurastar or was gonna be? What if I failed? What if someone prettier and more important than me became the Saurastar for Hadrosaurs? Would… humans, being weak inferior animals always seeking someone strong to tell them what to do, naturally following the leader… would Anon..." She gulped. "Leave me?"