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๐๐๐๐๐๐: @unicloverr
โคท ใ๐ง๐ท หหห
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Eu genuinamente AMO sua escritaใฝ(oยด3`o)๏พ cheguei a ler quase todas as suas obras, e acabei ficando ansiosa pros prรณximos capรญtulos de cada( ๏พฮต๏พ๏ผ) รฉ muito bom saber que tem br fazendo histรณrias tรฃo boas assim!! Fico embasbacada que fiquei um tempo sem saber q vocรช รฉ br, eu sou muito lerda( ยด_ใ`)
Awwwwn, muito obrigada! Fico muito feliz por vocรช gostar da minha escrita! ร uma honra servir a comunidade de fanfics br ๐ฅน๐
Devo confessar que รฉ muito engraรงado isso, porque eu sou bem aberta quanto a ser brasileira e publicar todas as minhas obras, primordialmente, em portuguรชs. Mesmo assim, percebo muitos leitores brasileiros continuando a ler a obra em inglรชs (pode ser uma preferรชncia da pessoa tambรฉm, mas hรก muitos detalhes que coloco na escrita original que nรฃo podem ser traduzidas). No geral, imagino que seja a mesma situaรงรฃo que a sua, de nรฃo perceber que sou brasileira KAKAKAKAKAKAKA
Enfim, obrigada pelos elogios, espero que as prรณximas atualizaรงรตes te agradem! โค (ษหะท(หโฃหc)
I have found out about it like yesterday or the day before I think and I already have read through it like three times. Its really nicely written! (I have no quotev account so i'll have to send an ask)
You also wrote the characters really well!! Hope and blondie are my favs as right know, and how mc protected(?) them infront of briar was really charming! (sorry for forgetting their names </3 remembering names is my worst enemy and if I look for it now I'll lose the ask) Your so creative and thank you for sharing the story with us!!!
Hope you have a great day/night! </3
You can't imagine how happy I am to read this!! ๐ฅน๐
Know that all this affection is greatly appreciated, and it warms my heart to know that the story captivated you. I hope you enjoy reading the next few chapters! This type of comment always motivates me to give my best ๐ซ๐
Thank you so much, I hope you have a great day/night too! (ยด๊ณ`)โก
To begin with, I imagine Miranda would be more inclined to start exhibiting yandere behavior after having to give up several things, as shown at the end of the first film. Besides Andy and Nigel leaving, there's the issue of the divorce, in which she demonstrates concern for her own daughters.
With that in mind:
After Andy and Nigel left Runway, Miranda would have a stricter approach to new hires. When you were hired, she would judge even your breathing. The reprimands would be worse than words; it would be that narrowed look she gives while adjusting her glasses, making you want to hide like a turtle in its shell.
Miranda would make a point of starting to use heavier bags and coats, just to see you trip over your own feet while trying to put away what you asked for. Once you stepped awkwardly and dropped everything.
"I swear that the next time you drop something on the floor, the next thing that will be waiting for you is the front door."
How cruel! You cried in the bathroom during your lunch break. You didn't even get to enjoy your break properly, receiving a call from Miranda asking you to do something impossible (which you had to make possible so as not to upset her).
You started carrying a small notebook to jot down what Miranda liked and disliked. It took about two months before she seemed to tolerate your presence, reducing her comments about "there being no decent secretaries these days" or something similar.
She would pretend not to notice your supposed studies, but after a while, you would notice the sidelong glances she gave, peeking at the content written on the pages.
You were still young in this gigantic world of fashion, stumbling as you tried to walk among so many beasts, accepting Miranda's inhumane treatment because getting an opportunity like that to work for such an important figure was one in a million. You were lucky, that's what you told yourself every day. You couldn't give up because it was difficult, you had to persevere to prove that you were more competent than she thought.
The money she gave you for her coffee doubled, enough for you to get one for yourself too. The clothes she didn't know where to store in her house started following you home from work. The coats and bags she threw on your desk started being thrown on the other secretary's desk. Ghosts of smiles appeared when she saw you wearing things she gave you.
The way that icy barrier began to melt was subtle, and if it wasn't your imagination, that sharp look she gave you at the beginning softened, and your "uncomfortable presence" began to be requested more often. Miranda invited you to events. She consumed your weekends with her schedule (with her). She raised an eyebrow when you mentioned a guy who asked for your number at a party. She asked you to keep an eye on her daughters the day she found out you were going to have a date with that guy.
When she saw how well you got along with her daughters, Miranda became reflective. She kept replaying in her mind the way the girls smiled every time you appeared, dispelling all the melancholy that had fallen into them after Miranda's divorce.
You were doing good for people, and without even realizing it, Miranda allowed you to bring that good into her life as well.
However, after so many losses and threats throughout her career, Miranda felt a growing fear corroding her logic, telling her that you wouldn't stay long. That you would grow wings and escape her control.
Why was she thinking of controlling you? Miranda didn't understand, and even condemned that kind of thinking coming from her.
However, as time went on, Miranda allowed this behavior to take root in her, stating that it was a way to ensure that you flourished the way you deserved in the fashion world, without those weeds trying to cling to you.
Oh, and the scandal of the following year? Miranda Priestly got over her divorce and married her lovely secretary who, for some reason, couldn't be seen by the public.
I'm writing about what Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada would be like if she were a yandere. In real life she would hate it, but fanfiction is fanfiction ๐ค๐
๐ฏ๐จ๐ฝ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐น ๐ซ๐ฌ๐บ๐ป๐ฐ๐ต๐ ๐ท๐น๐ฌ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ป๐ฌ๐น๐ด๐ฐ๐ต๐ฌ๐ซ even before birth is the sentence for all those descended from the stories cultivated in the lands of Ever After. Son of a king or granddaughter of a witch, none of that mattered when the Storybook of Legends was shoved down their throats. A centuries-old tradition, seemingly unbreakable.
"I'd never given much thought to ghosts โ except, perhaps, as a frightened child watching the shadows at bedtime. I would soon discover that Jackaby had a way of opening up that little corner of my mind. It was a quiet little corner where I'd lived when I was younger. Where anything was possible, where magic wasn't an improbable daydream but an obvious fact โ even if out of reach. Back then, I knew there were monsters in the world, but I happily accepted them, aware that, by the same logic, there must also be wizards and magic wands and flying carpets. I never really shut that part of my mind off; I just stopped visiting it as I got older. I'd left it unlocked, like the messy treasure up there, waiting for someone to come and rummage through it."
Jackaby
Read. Write. Erase.
Her fingers gripped the pencil.
Simple requests shouldn't be hard to fulfill.
The sheet of paper was completely crumpled, a war-torn survivor sitting on the desk. Highlighters, broken pencil stubs, and eraser crumbs dotted the chaotic scene like the cherry on top of a cake. The cake was still baking; it was [Name] Yarn's head.
It was so stupid that she felt angry.
"Tell a familiar memory."
What memory? She'd have to pull one out of her ass, that's for sure.
Her sisters, Cloe, Lana, and Astrid, had been a pain in the ass for the last 18 years of her life. The trio of Fates was too proud to deign to spend quality family time โ if she could even call them that. [Name] could only feel frustration at that point, feeling angry at Mr. Nimble for dropping that bomb in her lap. Well, of all the students, the difference was that at Ever After, most had decent families.
The minority was just as screwed as she was.
The thing is, after sitting in that chair for an hour, staring at a crumpled piece of paper, her already ruined mood started to get even worse. Her clothes felt like they were sticking to her. The sun streaming through the window was blinding, making her feel like a sunburned vampire. Her roommate doing a live stream made her want to lose her temper that day.
Right then.
Right at that moment.
The girl's head snapped back, narrowing her eyes at the blond.
The frustration of having to think about her shitty family and a chatterbox in the same room was a recipe for disaster. Because a bitter person will always find someone happier than them unbearable.
Her fingers wrapped around a neon blue highlighter. Without trembling or hesitating, [Name] threw the object at Blayne.
"Ouch!" The blond man flinched, putting his hand to his forehead. "What was that?"
When his eyes caught sight of the intruding object, one eyebrow arched slightly.
"Yes." [Name] shrugged. "It's a warning for you to do your stream somewhere else."
Silence hung in the air. The red stream light remained on.
"Are you kicking me out?"
"Yes."
"But the bedroom belongs to both of us."
"Yes."
"..."
"Follow basic rules of coexistence and I won't give you any trouble. In fact..." she swiveled her chair around, looking at him incredulously from across the room, before the line of coarse salt, "I'm going to talk to the director today about changing dorms. It makes no sense for us to be here together." [Name] complained.
The girl had barely started speaking again when Blayne switched the feed, flashing an apologetic smile at the camera. Boldly, he stepped over the line of coarse salt, earning a mocking smile from [Name].
"How daring, breaking down barriersโ"
"I'm coming with you," he said as he ran his hands through his perfectly coiffed curls.
"Oh, are you going to defend my cause?"
"I'm going to defend mine," Blayne retorted, his lips twisted into a frown. "I'm not sharing a room with you."
"Huh, is it bad for business? It's not even that important for you to take it this seriously."
It was fleeting, but the tremor in Blayne's left eye was enough for [Name] to realize she'd managed to provoke him. Unlike Maden and Hope, who would sulk at her teasing, the future Goldilocks was bolder, making his displeasure with her clear. He stood his ground, crossing his arms and glaring at her.
"That's not funny, Yarn."
"Of course it is, I'm having a blast."
Actually, "fun" was way too superficial. Control. She wanted to test how much she could mess with her newest roommate's head, looking for his micro-reactions. The ones that gave away what he was trying to hold back.
This back-and-forth went on for a few minutes, complete with finger-pointing and sticking out her tongue. [Name] spun around like a tyrannical queen, and that was when she screwed everything up. The paper behind her was exposed. She was far enough away from the desk for Blayne to see it. He grabbed the crumpled paper from her desk and quickly backed away.
Now the roles were reversed. [Name] watched in horror as Blayne turned the blank paper over and over. It was as if her heart had been shifted to the pit of her stomach; the blond's sudden approach and retreat left the scent of vanilla permeating the air around her. Suffocating and nauseating.
"What's this supposed to be...?" Blayne frowned, before his expression brightened. "Oh, is this Mr. Nimble's assignment? Haven't you done it yet?" He laughed at the scowl on her face. "What's the matter? Did the cat eat your tongue?"
[Name] felt her heart race and her cheeks flush. She looked at the paper in his hand as if it were her own death sentence.
"So? You're awfully quiet for someone who was talking about ethics just minutes ago."
"Give it back," she demanded, raising her voice. "Now."
"What if I don't want to?" He arched an eyebrow. "It's only fair, since you interrupted my broadcast."
If he hadn't been so rude, she wouldn't have interrupted him at all.
But maybe she had gone too far?
Come on, he crossed the line she'd drawn! He walked right through the coarse salt as if it weren't even there!
"You're not going to hand it over, are you?" She narrowed her eyes.
"Not the paper, nor the highlighter you threw at me."
Was this how it was going to be, then?
Well, the girl had no problem snatching it by force. [Name] leaped up from her chair in one bound and lunged at him, nearly knocking them both to the floor. However, Blayne raised his arm, causing her to slam face-first into his chest. The teddy bear button hit her forehead.
That damn thing hurtโ what was it made of? Steel?!
She growled and lunged at him with her claws until she struck him.
"HA!" she gloated as she saw the red line on the pink skin of his cheek, another running down his neck.
The paper now lay on the floor between them, a white flag that was anything but peaceful.
"What's your problem?!" Blayne exclaimed in alarm, placing his hands where she'd struck him. "That hurt, you idiot."
"Owww, are you going to cry now?" [Name] spat out her pent-up venom with villainous satisfaction. "Maybe your followers will comfort you," she grabbed the paper, "but I won't!"
Simple. It should have ended there. Blayne had to continue his livestream somewhere else while she finished the damn task.
The bad omen began when Blayne silently looked away, seeing his own figure reflected in the bedroom's full-length mirror. He stepped closer, examined his reflection more closely, tracing the marks of [Name]'s fingernails against his pale skin. Bright red, like blood splattered on snow.
The curls he'd been spending the last hour finishing, tangling them and squeezing them with his fingers until they were marked by the strands, were a mess. It looked like a bird's nest. Chaotic, anything but perfect.
Blayne Lockes wasn't perfect.
For holy porridge's sake, HE wasn't perfect.
His fingers began to trace the imperfections more forcefully, as if running his hand over them would make the flesh come together, heal, and leave the skin smooth again.
Was it her fault... or was it his?
Was it his fault for not getting out of the way in time?
In the first place, why were those nails so sharp? โ he felt like hiding.
The reflection remained there, staring back at him.
It must be the mirror's fault.
It had to be.
Maybe the mirror was defective, not him.
He ran his hand forcefully across the surface.
Crack.
The glass cracked under the pressure.
Just a small flaw.
Flaw.
No, he wouldn't accept having flaws.
He looked at the still-transformed tablet, turned away from them.
"I can't transmit like this!" He pointed an accusing finger at the girl. "Look at the fucking mess you made!" Desperation made his voice come out shrill.
"Me?" [Name] blinked twice. "You're the one who caused this! Stop acting like a child!"
Blayne stopped in the middle of the room, hunched over, before grabbing the full-length mirror.
The mirror was the only defect in there, not him, so Blayne threw it on the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed sharply within the four walls, shards flying in every possible direction.
"Lockes, you're off. It was just a few scratches," [Name] backed away, her hands held in front of her, too afraid to get any closer. What if she was the next thing he threw?
Her attempt to snap Blayne out of his little outburst was useless; it went in one ear and out the other. Maybe letting him spiral would tire him out enough for her to have a proper conversation. Or he'd get depressed and quiet enough to abandon that ridiculous broadcast. The latter option seemed the most advantageous.
"How am I supposed to go on now?" He began pacing back and forth, his eyes watering, blurring his vision. "I've already kept the viewers waiting. By the time I cover this up with makeup and fix my curls, it'll take forever!"
"Uh-huh," she agreed with feigned regret, "sounds like your problem to me."
Instantly, [Name] felt she should have waited longer. Making another comment now could unsettle him even more, throwing everything back to square one. Not that it wasn't fun to see that disorganized side of her roommate. It was interesting to see someone so perfect like that. However, just the two of them alone there, plus the fact that he seemed stronger than her โ that giant mirror must have weighed twice as much as he did โ made her think that maybe this wasn't the right moment. His anger was directed at himself, but if she pushed a little harder, it would turn on her.
[Name] knew how people like that acted; her sisters were a perfect example of it. Understanding the mindset of that sort of person was a piece of cake. And Blayne seemed to be that kind of person โ the type who freaks out when startled and snaps back to normal moments later.
She watched him stop in the middle of the room, glass and salt mixed beneath his feet. She could hear his ragged breathing. See his shoulders trembling. Notice the irritated side of his neck from how much he'd been running his hand over it.
"Hey, noodlehead, what's wrong now?" The question seemed to chill the room.
Piercing blue eyes stared at her over his shoulder.
For a moment, she wondered if he was thinking of throwing her to the floor like he'd done to the mirror, or scratching her back. No, he seemed to be thinking now. His shoulders relaxedโat least from a distanceโand a trembling sigh escaped his lips.
"Are you done?"
She should have interpreted that silence differently.
The result wasn't what she expected.
It was worse.
[Name] clutched a comb tightly, the veins in his hand bulging, as he watched the blond man sit down in front of the camera with a broad smile. Pretending he hadn't acted like a little tyrant just minutes earlier. Not without giving his appearance a quick touch-up first, of course. He smiled for a moment, in silence. He remembered to blink when he felt a burning sensation in his eyes. He took a deep, controlled breath, as if he hadn't been gasping for air just moments before.
"Sorry, everyone, I'm back on MirrorCast!" Blayne's shrill voice pierced [Name]'s eardrums. "A wild cat broke into our dorm. Luckily, my roommate decided to help me." He pointed to the girl next to him. "So she's going to help me get back to perfection live. Isn't that nice of her?"
"Son of a bitch, I'm going to beat the shit out of you," [Name] felt her head throbbing with pure hatred as she watched that golden demon having fun, the paper from her unfinished assignment tucked inside his pants pocket.
"I wonder how many people would read an article about a student who knows nothing but how to attack others. With a backstory involving family problems, where she can't even describe a memory." Blayne sighed, placing his hand over his heart. "But you know, if you do what I ask, I might choose not to spread this around the whole school and... well, the principal."
He said that with such confidence that it almost erased the previous image of him freaking out over two scratches, throwing the mirror on the floor like a wild bull. And he looked so skinny. Although he wore so many clothes that it wasn't even possible to distinguish his body type anymore.
Whatever, that didn't erase the fact that Blayne Lockes was a jerk.
[Name] Yarn wondered how bad it could have been if the injuries had been worse. Or if her clothes had been damaged. Or if she'd yanked out a tuft of blonde hair in that moment of hateful adrenaline. Because let's face it, if he rubbed on a little magic ointment, those scratches would disappear almost instantly. However, the guy did a complete 180 with that, almost breaking down in front of her and threatening to expose her right after.
Well, she couldn't deny that she might have gone too far by physically assaulting him, reaping what she sowed in the ridiculous form of a "friendly" broadcast. But that didn't justify the kind of exposure. [Name] didn't even care much if others found out she'd hurt him. What weighed on her was the role he'd managed to forcefully reclaim and the underlying threat of exposing a personal weakness of hers.
It hadn't even been two days since they'd become roommates. Unbelievable.
The strangeness of being in the other half of the room โ the part that was his โ also made her shift uncomfortably in her seat. It smelled of cleaning products, vanilla, and porridge. Blue decor with gold accents. Medium-sized furniture, neither small nor large โ just right. The white stucco lining the ceiling gave the room greater depth, making it look like something out of one of those interior design books you only find in clinic waiting rooms.
She pressed her toes into the carpet. Even through her socks, she could feel its softness. The quality of it was greater than her own life.
How rich was he?
"Yarn? Can we begin?"
[Name] held back the tremor in her leg at the thought of kicking him out into the stratosphere.
The red dot ahead reminded her of the live broadcast. Her mood wilted at the memory, and a weary sigh escaped her chapped lips โ she hadn't even had time to apply lip balm.
Before beginning, she looked at the golden mane, reminiscent of the description of Rumpelstiltskin's golden strands. She brought her hand closer than the comb, intending to untangle a few knots with her fingers before running the comb through. Then, as if under a spell, she felt the anger fade for a moment as soon as her fingers tangled in the curls. Soft as clouds.
Untangle knots? That hair showed no sign of it, unlike Maden's.
Sliding and slipping through her hand like butter. A hum of satisfaction escaped [Name]'s lips at the sensation.
"Hey, you don't need a comb, it's untangled." She muttered, leaning in and adding her other hand.
"Do you think my head is a crystal ball, by any chance?" "Blayne complained, raising an eyebrow. She pretended not to notice how his posture melted. "It's for you to fix, not to use as a stress toy."
"Uh-huh."
"You're making it messier, Yarn!" He exclaimed-whispered through clenched teeth.
"Yeah, but it looks cool on you." She shrugged, turning his head toward the camera. "Now you look like a boy band member. Don't I deserve some applause? It looks way better."
An irritated snort came from beneath her, making her giggle. She tried flipping his hair in another direction, watching the strands slide over his shoulder.
"There's hair in my face." Blayne blew the strands away, shooting her an annoyed look.
"It gives you a wild look."
[Name] being under threat didn't mean she wouldn't take advantage of the situation.
"Make a mean face for the camera, Lockes."
He gave a visibly forced smile, trembling at the edges, feeling his pulse race as he saw his own image.
He looked messier than before, but the red dot and the growing number of viewers in the corner made him take a deep breath.
"It's up to you to fix it."
"I'm fixing it."
"It's not what it looks like."
"Shhh." She pointed to the corner of the screen. "People liked it."
"Well, I didn't."
"But your job is to please others, not yourself." She teased, running her fingers through his hair to make it look more even. "Look at this:" she smiled at the comment that popped up on the live stream "'He turned into a little kitten.' That's why the wild cat attacked him."
Fleeting enough to seem like her imagination, she saw him lower his head, his hair covering his face โ except for his ears, which were burning bright red.
"Yarnโ" the comb was pressed against his lips.
Blayne choked on his disgust.
"Now let's move on to the makeup!" [Name] exclaimed, reading a few more comments aloud, watching the blond grow increasingly silent.
And increasingly red.
When you wake up in the morning and find yourself in the middle of a crowd, the only thing you can think about is how dead you already feel inside. [Name] could think of nothing else right now, especially when she heard her name amid all that loud, ear-splitting chatter.
"Hey, did you hear that the Lockes are dating that Yarn girl?"
That was the last thing [Name] expected to hear the next morning, after Blayne's broadcast. Of course, gossip in Ever After spread faster than an angry mother's son, but the scale it reached was enormous. Overnight, [Name] Yarn went from being an unknown student.
Now she was Blayne Lockes's potential girlfriend, much to her chagrin.
"Did you see how they were talking? I could feel the chemistry through the screen!"
It was mutual hatred.
"The romantic tension was killing me."
And she was almost killing him.
"The way he seemed to melt when she kept playing with his hair..." the random student sighed. "Oh, it made my heart skip a beat! I was rooting for a little kiss."
EW!
She'd rather kiss Hope in her frog form than that greasy guy with soft hair and skin... ah, no, she got a little sidetracked there.
Regardless, [Name] felt the pre-vomit reflux rising halfway up her throat at the thought. It was so embarrassing to hear that, she had to close her eyes for a moment and imagine a universe where Blayne didn't exist. Not the broadcasts. Not that stupid role. Or that ridiculous threat. Better yet: the desperate rumor that she was dating one two-faced like that.
In fact, she was surprised they hadn't noticed the animosity between them. The underlying threat in his gaze was clear, watching closely in case her little jokes went too far. [Name] felt that people watched his streams through rose-colored glasses, because it was impossible not to see how superficial Blayne was.
And amidst all that collective fantasy, in which the students saw a perfection that didn't exist, the image of Blayne shattering the mirror and crying in front of her made her shudder. Indeed, you can't trust social media.
Like a distasteful dรฉjร vu from the previous morning, she found Blayne in front of her locker, smiling and beaming at the camera. He seemed at ease, as if there were no rumors about a relationship stabbing him in the back. Joy radiated from him, from his expressive gestures to his choice of a smiling bear brooch on his bow tie, the bear's eyes being little pink hearts.
[Name] slowed her pace, waiting for him to finish whatever he was recording.
She wouldn't risk appearing on a live stream again.
"And so I conclude our MirrorCast opening with a question: have you ever fallen in love at first sight? If so, tell us what the experience was like!" He waved goodbye.
When the red light went out, [Name] quickened her pace, her boots pounding the ground as if she wanted to break it.
"Lockes!" The girl raised her hands in a threatening gesture. "I'm going to kill you!" she hissed through clenched teeth, like a skittish cat.
"Good morning, Yarnโ!"
Blayne held up his hands in surrender when he felt a tug on his tie and his back slam against the locker behind him. His bright smile faltered as she stood up, casting a shadow over him.
If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.
"Look at that, someone woke up full of energy today." He commented innocently." I think we might even be able to risk another post togetherโ!"
"Have you heard what people are saying about us?" [Name] ignored the comment, beginning to feel a slight burning sensation in the palm of her hand, caused by the friction from the "Loving Bear" pin.
"Oh? About our relationship?" So he knew. "It's the hot topic of the moment. There's no way you wouldn't know."
The worst part wasn't even that he knew, but that he seemed fine with it, his expression not even flinching. His posture was composed and relaxed in the middle of that crowded hallway, where the two of them were the hot topic on everyone's lips.
"But that relationship never existed and never will, Lockes." She spat out his last name with disdain. "Then explain to people in one of your stupid livestreams that it's not true!"
"Um..."
The way he looked away should have been the first red flag.
Blayne's expression remained neutral, giving nothing away of what he might be thinking.
But she felt it. Of course she felt it. Two arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer.
"Yarn, you know I work with audience engagement, right?" [Name] froze as she felt his low voice against her ear, his big blue eyes staring deep into her soul. That damn gentle smile didn't waver. They were in public. "That's why I need them to think that for at least a month."
"What? Are you crazy?!" The girl felt her throat tighten.
"I've already confirmed it. We're dating. My views and followers have gone up, andโ" he pulled his face away and removed her hand from his collar, "if you don't want to help me get dressed again like you did yesterday, I suggest you take your hands off me." Blayne sighed. "Don't keep pinning me against the closet, either. Not that I'm complaining, it enhances the image of a couple madly in love."
It was unsettling; the realization of the position they were in sent a chill down her spine. To add to the horror of the situation, [Name] could hear some students chatting among themselves.
"They're so cute together!"
"If they break up, I'll stop believing in love."
"Did you see how they greeted each other? Like a couple separated by years of war."
She reluctantly relaxed her posture, pulling away as soon as she felt his arms loosen their grip.
The cheerful chuckle Blayne let out upon seeing the terror plastered on her face should be illegal.
"I can say we're not dating," [Name] retorted.
"And my warning from yesterday still stands," Blayne shrugged. "Look, I'd appreciate it if you'd cooperate, you know? My channel on MirrorCast is still new, and I need to seize every opportunity to help it grow. I think you understand that, right?"
Even though she hated giving in, [Name] bitterly regretted not only ignoring Blayne the day before but also going to do the assignment somewhere else. As much as she was sure she'd rack her brain staring at the blank page for hours, she wouldn't be forced into this charade of a fake relationship. She'd already realized the guy was obsessed with his own streams and his own image, but not to that extent. That would have to be some level of sociopathy.
"So..." he rubbed his hands together, "couples eat breakfast together, right?"
It was going to be a long day โ or worse, a long month.
The castleteria was as crowded as ever. Princes and princesses walked around wearing their gleaming crowns. Fairies balanced their trays with their tiny arms. The cafeteria worker was at his wits' end trying to keep the hungry students in check. It looked like one of those wildlife episodes [Name] used to watch out of boredom, and maybe she would even find the scene funny if she didn't feel the pressure of Blayne and Hope's presence beside her. Each on one side, squeezing her like a damn sandwich.
They weren't even talking to each other, speaking to her as if the other didn't exist.
"Are you friends with Croakington?" Blayne asked earlier, his face twisted into a grimace. "She's weird."
And yet, even though she agreed with him, [Name] found herself leaning toward the redhead, trying to escape the threat of golden curls. Hope had heard the rumors. She didn't understand the dynamic between the two of them, but she gladly accepted her new friend's approach. She tilted her head, furrowing her brow and her freckled nose.
"Is everything okay, [Name]?" Hope now knew her name from the gossip. "You seem tense."
"It's nothing."
It was anything but nothing. She'd been wanting to be buried ever since she stepped out of the room. To make matters worse, Blayne's perfume was a vanilla bomb that was melting her brain, triggering a migraine. Making her brain throb inside her skull. He must have spent a fortune on that room, only to fail to buy a decent perfume.
Breakfast moved at the speed of a pack mule, painfully slow. Blayne seemed pretty comfortable for someone who was threatening and forcing another person into a relationship, daring to look amused when she flipped him off under the table.
She kicked him in the shin for not giving her the reaction she wanted.
He stifled a groan of pain.
"By the way, [Name]" Great, he'd call her by her first name too, how wonderful! "I'm going downtown to Ever After after class."
[Name] gave him a bored look, making a point of taking her time chewing her sandwich.
"And what does that have to do with me?"
"You're coming with me."
"I'm not your dog." [Name] scoffed, cutting the slice of papaya on her plate into tiny pieces. "Get a parrot and take it with you, for fuck's sake. Maybe it'll put up with you."
Ha, there it was, Blayne's left eye twitching again. It was subtle, but [Name] noticed the smile trembling at the corners.
"How cruel. Have you already forgotten what happened earlier?" He rested his chin in his palm, bringing his face closer to hers. "[Name], I just wanted to make you happy by spending more time with me." He fluttered his eyelashes coyly.
"The result will disappoint you."
"You say that as if I were bad."
It was so subtle that it would easily have gone unnoticed by [Name], but she saw a small crack in his voice. A lack of elegance, replaced by something she couldn't name.
Blayne Lockes was strange in and of himself. He wasn't worth her effort.
She ignored the fleeting slip.
When classes ended, the bell in the tower rang. While the students swarmed like ants toward lunch or headed straight back to their dorms, [Name] waited for Blayne in the shade of the rose-covered wall, escaping the scorching sun. Stressful was an understatement. The whole thing was so ridiculous that she just wanted to hang herself and move on. Waiting for him like a lovesick high schooler on her way to a first date was downright disgusting.
Well, she'd pretend Blayne didn't exist until he showed up and, much to her dismay, reminded her that they'd be spending the day together.
Her eyes wandered across the school's central courtyard. The place was enormous. Ostentatious. A refined red carpet descended the staircase. Flags bearing the school's emblem fluttered in the wind. The building's windows looked like a thousand eyes watching her down below. And the window of what must be Principal Grimm's office, high up, in a spot where he could see everyone coming and going from Ever After High, was the biggest of them all, standing out like an elephant among rabbits.
Speaking of the principal, she needed to talk to him about switching dorms as soon as she got back from her outing with Blayne. Hopefully, this change would downplay the "dating" image and give her the little peace she hadn't had since she started there.
Actually, didn't any of his friends find this strange? Blayne seemed pretty open about everything going on with him, as long as it didn't affect his image, of course. If they were decent friends, surely they'd notice how strange this relationship was, right? It was the second day of school, no one really knew the Yarns well โ even though their role was important โ and she didn't exactly have a good reputation with those who did know her.
The only thing left was to cross her fingers that this whole business about the supposed relationship between her and Blayne would die down enough for him to drop the subject sooner rather than later. A month of faking that crap would make her writhe in agony.
Distracted by her own thoughts, the girl felt sleep creeping through her body, almost lulling her to sleep.
If it weren't for footsteps approaching her.
"Yarn?" The familiar voice made her widen her eyes for a moment. "What are you doing out here?"
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sunlight reflecting off the person. The first thing she noticed was the all-black outfit, from the boots to the dress shirt and feathered shoulder pads; a single point of light coming from the magenta stone embedded in Raven Queen's long silver necklace, resembling an eye judging her.
"Queen, what a surprise." [Name] gave a scornful smile. "I thought Maden wouldn't let you interact with me."
Escaping the sun, Raven took shelter in the shadows beside her. The scene was almost comical. Two goths. One was the Hatter's best friend; the other was hated by him. Raven, the future cruel king, while [Name] hoped to discover her fate for the coming year.ย
She hadn't even taken those books out of the box yet!
A few birds chirped as they bathed in the nearby fountain.
"Well, he's busy right now. And it doesn't hurt to interact with someone different once in a while."
An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment.
"People might get the wrong idea, you know?" she teased. "You here with me."
"What?"
Holding back her laughter was almost impossible, but she managed it.
"Seeing you talking to a girl who's in a relationship when she's alone could damage your reputation, Queen."
[Name] couldn't care less about her fake relationship with Blayne, but maybe she could take advantage of it by eliciting different reactions from others. Like now, when Raven turned pale, taking a step back, leaning against the rose bushes, almost being swallowed up by them.
"You in a relationship?!"
"I know it's disappointing, but you can keep paying attention to me if you want. I like it." [Name] winked.
Raven looked around, scanning for cameras or waiting for someone to burst out shouting: "It's a prank!"
It took longer than expected, but the information was slowly sinking in, the gears turning and working hard behind her purple eyes.
"With whom?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Haven't you heard? Blayne Lockes is my boyfriend." She feigned disinterest, examining her own nails.
The "pfft" the brunette let out after a few seconds made [Name]'s smile falter.
"No way." Raven laughed, as if she'd told the funniest joke of all time.
"And why not?"
"I talked to him the day before yesterday, and he didn't even know you." He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. "I mean, Blayne wouldn't get into a relationship like that."
Finally, someone had used their head! [Name] wanted to crack open Raven's skull and kiss his brain right there. Even though she'd almost thrown him off the bridge because of that huge suitcase of his hitting her three days ago, he was by far the most tolerable person there so far.
Come to think of it, Blayne couldn't do much against her if the person she was dating was Raven Queen, right? Not only did the two seem to have at least a minimally friendly relationship based on Raven's earlier comment, but the future Goldilocks didn't seem dumb enough to go up against the future greatest villain of Ever After.
"Do you have plans for today?" [Name] watched him brush some rose petals off his clothes.
"Not at first."
"Then take me out."
"Now?"
"Now."
Raven's answer didn't come immediately, but she saw the way he became less tense and more thoughtful, considering what had been proposed. He seemed to think too much before answering anything, [Name] noticed. That wasn't bad at all, though; she was tempted to know how his mind worked during those silent moments.
Meanwhile, on the flip side, it wasn't every day that he was asked out either, especially by someone other than Maden. In fact, no one ever asked him out. Everyone used to avoid him like the plague. As if a single extra second near him would make the person drown in misfortune.
Raven was cursed by the legacy of all the evil queens and kings who came before him. A burden that would lead him into decline if he didn't watch his own thoughts. An iron chain forbidding him from straying too far from what was predestined for him, forcing him to cling to the evil his mother had taught him from the cradle. That pure cruelty that had stripped so many things from him. Countless. Depriving him of the interactions he so desperately wanted.
However, one day, right there in front of him stood [Name] Yarn, offering something he could only have dreamed of until now. Looking at him as if she saw only Raven, not a Queen. A random classmate, not the future king of darkness. In fact, she even seemed bored, raising an eyebrow at his delay.
"Do you have anywhere in mind?"
His acceptance came gently, in a simple question, with a cheerful tone that Raven wasn't used to using.
"I don't know Ever After."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know it. The farthest I've gone was the Hatter's shop, as you already know," [Name] snorted. "I've never really left the house much."
"But you just asked me out."
"No, I asked you to show me around." He shrugged, ignoring the other's indignant reaction. "Show me what you already know. Anything will be new to me."
That was too much responsibility for him!
Raven felt a cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck at the revelation, his thoughts about all the places he knew becoming jumbled. Stores, coffee shops, used bookstores โ those places that were only good for taking a nice photo. He wasn't exactly an expert on going out either, but seeing someone in a more reclusive situation than his own made him nervous.
"I..." Raven paused for a moment. "I can take you to a store I know." He paused again. "But first, we should get something to eat, maybe at Alphabet Soup."
"What a ridiculous name." [Name] furrowed his brow.
"I agree." He nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face as nostalgia washed over him. "But their food is great, you'll like it."
And wow, Raven was right.
The potato broth with fine herbs melted on [Name]'s tongue as soon as she put the first spoonful in her mouth, tingling as the food slid hot down her throat. The temperature was perfect in the restaurant's air-conditioned atmosphere. A place Raven had dubbed his and his father's "favorite hangout." The place had white and baby blue decor, with narrative paintings of Soup City, telling the story of the family behind the establishment.
It was clear how that place had been designed to welcome families. Tables with plenty of seats. A playground with children's drawings plastered on the wall. An aquarium on top of the counter with colorful little fish playing together. So comfortable that it made [Name] feel uncomfortable at first, a warm sensation rising in her chest.
Bathed in natural light streaming through the windows, the cozy atmosphere embraced them the moment they walked in. The two sat facing the window, chatting about their first two days of school at Ever After. Raven did most of the talking while they waited for their order, perhaps because he'd noticed her reluctance with the new environment, filling in those gaps in their interaction. As if to indirectly show her she didn't need to try so hard.
As if she hadn't given his best friend a mean nickname.
When [Name] brought it up, Raven shrugged.
"I know how Mad can do weird things sometimes; unfortunately, not everyone will handle it well." He confessed, stirring the little metal straw in her juice glass. "The madness of Wonderland isn't easy to accept when you grow up in a "normal" world," he said, making air quotes with his fingers.
Right, so he'd understand if she vented about someone who wasn't his best friend, right?
"So I got really pissed off because I needed silence, you know?" [Name] complained, taking a big gulp of orange juice. "I can't think with noise."
That silence that followed before Raven answered her had become a pattern that [Name] was already getting used to.
"Most people can't." Raven agreed, blowing on the hot soup on her spoon. "But why would he do a livestream while you were studying? The school offers auditoriums to students like Blayne, who contribute to the institution's image" he drank the broth. He murmured happily as he savored the taste. "Sometimes it wasn't intentional. Maybe he didn't even notice you were studying. From what you said, you guys barely interact."
"I don't know, it's not like there's a wall blocking our view of each other." She sighed in defeat. "Well, I threw a pen at him, but that doesn't justify what he did."
"You threw a pen at Blayne?" Raven let out an incredulous laugh. "Wasn't there a better way to get him out of the dorm?"
"I know, I know. I've learned my lesson." She ran her hand over her neck, feeling frustration knocking at the door. "I'll never do that again."
Raven narrowed his eyes slightly, taking a few more spoonfuls of soup before answering.
"Did something happen? You seem really sorry about this." Raven's insight hit her like a knife.
Damn it, he noticed.
"I mean, Blayne is pretty easygoing if you talk to him nicely. I'm sure he won't take it personally if you apologize."
"What's this supposed to be...?" Blayne frowned, before his expression brightened. "Oh, is this Mr. Nimble's assignment? Haven't you done it yet?" He laughed at the scowl on her face. "What's the matter? Did the cat eat your tongue?"
"So? You're awfully quiet for someone who was talking about ethics just minutes ago."
"I wonder how many people would read an article about a student who knows nothing but how to attack others. With a backstory involving family problems, where she can't even describe a memory." Blayne sighed, placing his hand over his heart. "But you know, if you do what I ask, I might choose not to spread this around the whole school and... well, the principal."
"Yarn, you know I work with audience engagement, right?" [Name] froze as she felt his low voice against her ear, his big blue eyes staring deep into her soul. That damn gentle smile didn't waver. They were in public. "That's why I need them to think that for at least a month."
"I've already confirmed it. We're dating. My views and followers have gone up, andโ" he pulled his face away and removed her hand from his collar, "if you don't want to help me get dressed again like you did yesterday, I suggest you take your hands off me." Blayne sighed. "Don't keep pinning me against the closet, either. Not that I'm complaining, it enhances the image of a couple madly in love."
"How cruel. Have you already forgotten what happened earlier?" He rested his chin in his palm, bringing his face closer to hers. "[Name], I just wanted to make you happy by spending more time with me." He fluttered his eyelashes coyly.
Blayne's irritating voice had been like a fork scraping across a glass plate in her ear for the past 24 hours.
"No fucking way."
"..." the boy tilted his head. "Sorry for asking, Yarn, but have you ever apologized to anyone before?"
"Why?"
"Because it's easy to spot someone who doesn't."
"That's irrelevant, I have reasons not to forgive that bastard!"
"And he probably has reasons not to like you either."
"Whatever."
Raven laughed.
He really laughed.
The laughter made his chest tremble and his eyes crinkle at the corners with a playful glint.
"You're so arrogant," Raven commented, scraping the bottom of the bowl with her spoon.
"Me?" [Name] pointed to herself, incredulous. "I'm perfect."
"Yes, it is," the other replied sarcastically, an eyebrow raised. "You'd make a great pair with Swan."
"Who's that?"
Raven sighed for the umpteenth time.
"You don't know anyone?" The disappointment was understated. "You're just about to tell me you don't know the Whites."
"And should I?"
He remained silent for a full minute, refusing to look her in the eye during that time. When he gathered enough mental energy, he replied:
"At least the names of the main fairy tale families."
"Complicated."
"It's not complicated, they're names," he explained to her as if he were an overly stubborn child. "At least the main ones: White, Ella, Beauty, Hearts, Swan, Charming..." he listed on his fingers.
"I'm not very interested, you know? To me it's all the same," she shrugged. "A bunch of idiots who thought it was a great idea to force their descendants into some Jurassic-era garbage. Nobody can stand it anymore, it's much easier for everyone to just fend for themselves." [Name] pushed the empty bowl aside. "They keep putting so much spotlight on these repetitions that they shrink our entire world into a fantasy bubble, where normal people become mere pawns in these narratives."
The girl stopped and looked intently at Raven's expression, seeing him seem conflicted about something.
"We're taught to follow this."
"So what? We're taught to do various things, whether we use them or not is our choice."
"The destined have no choice."
"And why not?"
And then she saw, clear as day, that thread that was stuck to Raven shining brighter, as well as the purple eyes, which now seemed to contain stars. It wasn't such a complex thought, [Name] found it all too obvious. However, receiving such a strong reaction, over something she never had to think much about to figure out, made her rethink the way people have been conditioned to believe only what they've been presented with.
"Do you really think so?"
"What do you think? That I gave a whole monologue just to make fun of you?"
He looked at her, then at the empty bowls. At the clock that showed how long they had spent talking at that table. Two hours. He looked at [Name] again, finding a rare sincerity in her [e/c] eyes.
"Of course not." Raven leaned across the table, resting her elbow on the surface and her face in her palm. "I was just surprised... I mean, in a good way."
"Really? I guess I have to go back to being more wicked, thenโ"
The sun that had been streaming through the window disappeared.
Tick tick.
The sound cut through the conversation like an ice dagger.
Simultaneously, [Name] and Raven turned their heads towards the glass, coming face to face with Blayne Lockes in the flesh. Arms crossed, a scowl, and a look so judgmental it should be a crime.
Blayne Lockes always considered himself a positive person. Building things around him based on what he believed to be right. Everything perfect, to the extent that he liked it. Seeking to carve into his own image a symbol of example and perfection to be followed. When the opportunity arose to do something within that framework, something that would increase his reputation and prove him a royal, he seized it immediately.
Following this line of reasoning, given how he had shaped public opinion in the last few hours, that should have been the perfect day.
People congratulated him on his recent relationship. His followers increased after the last two broadcasts in which he mentioned [Name]. And, to capitalize on the engagement with a blessed golden touch, he would go out with his newest โ fake โ girlfriend around Ever After, showing the students the places they could use for dates. The meeting point before heading to the center of Ever After was clear: the main exit in the rose garden wall.
Unfortunately, Hannah Dumpty was late getting the camera he'd asked for โ the device was rejecting the memory card. So Blayne was 10 minutes late. And waited for her for almost an hour.
Nothing from her.
He tried to text her, but she wouldn't even read it. When he called, it went straight to voicemail. Anger boiled under his skin as if he were a volcano about to erupt.
"Take a deep breath," Blayne felt his eye twitching, his hands tense on the strap of the bag containing his recording equipment.
When an hour turned into an hour and a half, he gave up and decided to do something else downtown. He'd deal with [Name] Yarn later.
For someone used to always being accompanied, crossing the bridge and going into town alone was a strange experience. Abnormal. Blayne felt his chest heavy. A different kind of tension in his shoulders. His eyes were fixed on anyone who passed by โ perhaps they were judging him for going out alone.
What if a student from Ever After High saw him without his supposed girlfriend? Would they think they broke up? Would people unfollow him?
He felt like a fish out of water.
It would be quick, maybe a post about the new coffee shop that had opened at the end of the main avenue. That would distract him. Maybe he'd buy enough for two people and post it, tagging [Name], even though she wasn't there. Then everything would be fine, no one would suspect him.
However, as he walked, he noticed two familiar figures across the street, laughing at something he couldn't make out.
Then [Name] left him to have lunch with Raven Queen, excellent.
They both seemed surprised when he knocked on the window, especially Raven. When it dawned on her, [Name] rolled her eyes and continued drinking her juice, pretending she hadn't seen him.
Now a chair was placed next to [Name], inside the Alphabet Soup restaurant. Blayne made a point of sitting there, glaring at the girl. She pretended the problem wasn't with her.
"I thought I told you to wait for me at the exit," he snapped. "I waited for you for over an hour."
"So? I waited."
"It doesn't look like it."
"It's not a matter of appearance or not, it's the truth."
It didn't seem like [Name] was lying. However, that strange feeling of being alone, besides the growing paranoia of being judged by others for it, didn't help Blayne think rationally. That nauseating part of his personality pointed out that it was nothing more than Yarn's acting. Just another of her many provocations, trying to see him lose his composure.
"Raven," Blayne turned his attention to the dark-haired man, who seemed calm in the face of the scene, "did she manipulate you?"
Both [Name] and Raven were staring at him in astonishment now, as if three heads had grown on him instead of one. Time seemed to slow down. Then, in the background, the restaurant's doorbell rang, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the table.
"What?" Raven frowned. "Manipulated me? What are you talking about?"
"I'm sure she didn't say anything about us going out today and dragged you into this mess." Blayne tried to explain in one breath, realizing that blaming [Name] hadn't sat well with Raven.
[Name] felt a smile threatening to spread across her lips.
"No, she told me. I just doubted you two were dating. Sorry if I misunderstood." Raven said apologetically. "But how do you start dating someone you've only known for a day? Blayne, starting a relationship is very serious, you know that," he sighed in disappointment. "You always said you wanted to wait until the perfect match came along. Why now?"
"Iโ"
"Pfftโ" [Name] started laughing beside the blond. "Tell him, Curly."
"Be quiet, Yarn!"
"You're back to calling me by my last name? Reason for breaking up."
"Break up what? A fake relationship?"
.
.
.
"Is this a fake relationship?" Raven narrowed her eyes. "Now the reason this started must be really good."
Uh oh.
The silence fell as heavy as an anvil as Raven questioned Blayne.
"I mean, my MirrorCast channel got a lot of engagement overnight," he confessed with an awkward smile. "I couldn't let that go."
"Blayne."
"OK, OK." He put his hands in front of his body. "I might have gone too far."
Now Raven's gaze shifted to [Name].
"Yarn."
"Hm?"
"Why did you agree to this?"
"Do I really have to tell you?"
"If you want a benchmark between you and Blayne, then yes. It's not cool for you two to be like this when you barely know each other."
"Ugh!" she groaned in discontent, melting into her chair.
She remained quiet, watching the people walking outside. Feet under the table. Blayne's golden curls shining in the sunlight streaming through the window.
What was his hair care routine like?
"Yarn," Raven reiterated.
"Uh..." she sighed, giving up at his insistence. "He said he was going to publish about me assaulting him and another... uh, situation."
"What situation?"
"Damn it, you want my number too?" [Name] hissed like a snake.
"If that answers my question, why not?" He tilted his head, seemingly unfazed by the harsh reluctance directed at him.
In the midst of all this, the waitress came to place three more glasses of juice on the table with a gentle smile. The trio looked away from each other. [Name] pressed her lips into a thin line. Raven tapped her fingers on the table. Blayne dared to open his mouth as soon as the woman left:
"She didn't do Mr. Nimble's assignment." Blayne handed it to her, dodging the slap [Name] tried to land on his arm. "I didn't expect that to work either, it's so ridiculous."
[Name] glared at Blayne, throwing daggers with a look.
"The one about a familiar memory?" Raven seemed confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Seeing that she couldn't hide anything from the brunette anymore, [Name] adjusted her posture in the chair and pulled the glass of juice closer.
"I didn't know what to write, when he took..." [Name] paused for a moment. "Well, it doesn't matter."
When everything was brought up, the trio fell into an uncomfortable silence again.
Even though Blayne wasn't a very close friend of Raven's, he found that behavior strange. Pretending to be in a relationship with someone she barely knew, through blackmail, made a warning sign go off in his head. Even so, the boy tried to think about the blonde's anxiety about the new channel. That excitement of gaining a solid fan base as quickly as possible.
Raven didn't defend anyone's actions there, but she understood part of where it all came from.
"Blayne, you're going to announce that it was a joke you played on your dormmate, understand?" Raven pressed, watching the blond boy tense in his chair. "Look at the way you two started with each other in a single day together, that's awful!"
At that point, even [Name] was avoiding looking at Raven. He looked like a disappointed father or something. Not that she knew what it was like to have a father; perhaps that lecture was the closest she'd ever had. Even so, the way his voice shifted from its usual soft tone to a serious and grave one imposed an authority that, yes, reminded them who the son of a powerful queen was. The infamous Evil Queen, who cursed Wonderland and terrorized the kingdoms for years.
Like a judge delivering the final verdict, Raven stated:
"Do we understand each other?"
"Yes..." [Name] and Blayne answered in unison.
For the rest of the day, [Name], Raven, and Blayne walked together through the center of Ever After, visiting the shops, sampling some of the candy stalls, and jumping on the magical cobblestones that sparkled like diamonds on the street called "If This Street Were Mine." They ignored the Woods of Solitude at the end. The descendant of the Fates and the son of Goldilocks gradually forgot most of their animosity toward each other. Whenever one of them sniped at the other, Raven intervened.
And the latter seemed to be in an excellent mood too, enjoying that atypical day, smiling at the new experiences.
Above all the fame of his mother, the Evil Queen, Raven was a good person. Spending the day with him exposed this side completely. He wasn't a person of dubious character, unlike her. He didn't belittle her or Blayne for the mess. Nor did he condemn them for how they acted. He just put a stop to it and asked them to try again.
At one point, Blayne commented on the previous day's conversation: the dormitory change. Neither he nor [Name] had understood why they were being put together, especially since the norm was boys with boys and girls with girls, in order to avoid any unnecessary confusion. Or unpleasant situations like... well, those two were already an example โ certainly not the worst, if you know what I mean.
"Not that you shouldn't pursue the dormitory separation," Raven commented as they entered the antique shop.
The space was cramped, not because it was small, but because the objects were piled on top of each other, creating walls of wood, glass, porcelain, and unidentifiable materials. Leaning against the counter, the old man in charge of the establishment seemed not to have seen them enter, focused on the open newspaper in his hands, occasionally sipping a cup of coffee. On the counter stood candy jars overflowing with colorful candies that [Name] remembered eating on rare occasions in her childhood. Maybe she'd buy it, just to see if the taste was the same as she remembered.
"I think you two should give yourselves a chance," Raven continued. "Look at things from another perspective." He picked up an old snow globe, its stand rusty, and shook it. "Blayne, have you ever wondered why people enjoyed watching your interaction with [Name] on the broadcast so much?"
"Because they thought we were a coupleโ"
"Really?" Raven said. "Sometimes we have excellent chemistry with someone without even realizing it. That might be why they thought you two would make a good couple." He pointed to [Name] who had slyly placed a horned tiara on Blayne. "But that's not a rule, it could just be the potential for a good friendship."
Blyne ripped off the tiara and turned to throw it at her, but the girl had already run away. He watched the [h/c] hair disappear around the corner of the hallway, a wicked giggle accompanying her hurried steps.
"She's still making fun of you even after what you did."
"Yeah."
The two boys stared at each other in the hallway, blue against purple.
"So? Do you get the point?"
"No offense, Raven, but like you said, we've only known each other for two days." Blayne sighed, running a hand over his neck and shuddering as he felt the mark of his fingernail healing there. He needed to pick up the magic ointment from the infirmary when he got back to school. The day had been so busy he'd forgotten that detail.
"Even so, I think you two would be great friends, Blayne. Chaos and organization. Wouldn't that be the perfect duo?" The other retorted with a playful smile, watching Blayne's eyes widen. "You'll be roommates for a while, if the principal can't change yours. You know that, right? In a situation like that, the best thing to do is to have a friendly relationship with the person you share a room with."
"I don't know, Raven..." Blayne took a deep breath, grumbling in frustration. "When you talk like that, I don't even know where to begin!"
"Have you noticed what she does?"
"She's a real pain in the ass."
Raven laughed. "Besides that, Blayne. Think about it a little more."
Think about it a little more?
How?
When it was all over, the sun was already setting on the horizon, painting Ever After with gold and orange, warming the backs of the trio as they entered the school gates, tired from their somewhat turbulent outing. [Name] looked happily inside her bag, satisfied with what she had bought in the shops, especially the sweets from the antique shop, packaged in a stapled paper bag. The best part would be going back to her room and looking at everything calmly, a moment of admiration for everything she had bought during the outing. But before that, she needed a shower. The sweat sticking her clothes to her body like glue was driving her crazy.
Oh, she needed to talk to Principal Grimm too.
"Hey, you guys can go," [Name] waved. "I'm going to talk to the principal about the dormitory choice."
"Now?" Blayne complained, feeling her bones heavy from the day she'd had. "Can't we deal with this later?"
"I want to resolve this as soon as possible." She explained, adjusting the shopping bags in her arms.
Surprising the other two, including himself, Blayne took the shopping bags from [Name] and held them alongside his own.
"What was that?"
"I don't want to talk to the principal, but since you're going, I'll take our things to the room in exchange for not going as promised," he explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Consider this..." Blayne closed his eyes for a long second and took a deep breath, "...an apology for forcing you to pretend to be my girlfriend for the last few hours. For the whole school."
"That won't make me forgive you," [Name] raised an eyebrow, her voice veiled in resentment.
"I know," he confessed reluctantly. "Just let me try to fix things a little."
Glancing sideways, [Name] saw Raven give Blayne a thumbs-up, who was as red as a beet after apologizing. She wasn't slow. She knew the two had been talking about something in the antique shop. Her suspicion about what the conversation was about only increased with the change in the blond boy's behavior.
"Yarn," Raven called to her. "I'll go with you. I need to."ย
[Name] turned her attention away from Blayne's figure, who waved goodbye โ as best he could, the various bags restricting his movement. As soon as the golden curls disappeared from sight, the golden beams of the sunset became a purplish mantle, preparing a shadowy, starry stage for the mother moon. The courtyard lampposts gradually lit up, casting an artificial light on the two who remained.
"So you're coming with me, huh?"
"Yes." He agreed. "Why not? I want to take the opportunity to chat with you a bit along the way too." He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket as he walked beside her.
Driven by curiosity, [Name] peeked at the contents of the paper.
"This... is the work on ancestors that Mr. Nimble assigned?"
"Yes," he murmured, looking wearily at the paper, "there's no way I can hand in his work on ancestral research. Grandma passed away years ago. Mom is..."
Raven didn't need to finish, nor did [Name] ask him to. It was an understanding silence. The kind of conversation that didn't need words, just simple, mutual understanding. [Name] focused on the sound of her own footsteps, looking away when Raven gazed at her with curious eyes.
Tap tap tap.
The noise massaged her brain.
For a short time, because the boy finally decided to verbalize what he was thinking.
"You don't have to answer," Raven began, forcing them both to slow their walking pace. "But why couldn't you do Mr. Nimble's assignment? The Yarn family is still on the list of families in Ever After."
"I thought you didn't know the Yarns," [Name] disguised with a mocking smile, ignoring her tense vocal cords.
"And I didn't," he confessed without problems, "it took me a while to find them. I didn't imagine they were on the list of Greek families." [Name]'s silence encouraged him to continue. "So, are you going to answer my question?"
"Better yet, I'll give you a gold star for all your effort."
"I'll be waiting," he smiled gracefully, "but that doesn't answer my question."
"You're persistent, aren't you?" [Name] sighed, feeling the beginning of a migraine.
Well, Raven Queen didn't seem like a threat, so maybe it wouldn't be a problem to tell him something like that.
"I don't have any familiar memory," she tested, observing his reaction, "so there's no way I can write one."
Instead of looking horrified or firing off another three thousand questions, Raven remained quiet for long minutes, processing what had been said. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. Neutral expression. Instead of looking directly at her, he observed the moonlight through the long windows of the hallway and appreciated the brief moment of peace.
"Write something you like," Raven said suddenly, like a feather falling into a puddle. "Familiar doesn't have to be people, just something that brings you comfort when you remember it. You have that, don't you?" He smiled softly, watching her pause for a moment.
The two were engulfed in a silvery light, the only spectator of that interaction being the moon in the sky. [Name] just stopped, so Raven did too. She blinked once or twice. Opened her mouth and closed it like a fish out of water. Finally, she stared at him with genuine confusion. She couldn't formulate a concrete thought about what she'd heard right away. It was dense. Different from what usually filled her head. Accustomed to connecting that word with something she'd never had.
Raven seemed to understand this.
She waited for the gears inside her skull to absorb what had been said.
"Is that all...?" Never in a million years would [Name] have imagined her voice could come out so low.
"That's all," Raven reiterated slowly, realizing it was still a confusing idea for her. "And you don't need to feel ashamed for not finding that in people who share your blood."
"Being your blood doesn't mean it's going to be familiar."
That little voice resonated within her like an absolute truth that had always been there, but that she had never been able to see.
A strange feeling took hold of [Name]'s heart. She couldn't say exactly where it came from. It was just there, she knew. The presentation of a line of thought completely contrary to what she had thought her whole life, reading those dusty books at home or watching one of those cheesy movies made for families to watch together โ she always watched them alone. However, this new line of thought made her feel less...
This understanding that she had never experienced in her life clung to her like a second skin, right there, in that empty hallway. The effect of Raven's eyes on her, calm, not expecting anything too great, only that she would understand something basic and learn to deal with it without martyring herself so much, seemed to dig it in even deeper.
That moment didn't last long either, even though it seemed to last an eternity.
More corridors.
More stairs.
An endless number of curves.
The silence outside remained.
Except for the inside.
By the gods, [Name] felt her own inner self go mad.
A confusion of voices that wouldn't quiet down, even when she stood before the door to Principal Grimm's office.
ย Blayne Lockes becomes a different person when it comes to his own image, so it's advisable to proceed with caution.
Maden Hatter found out about Blayne's relationship with [Name]. He sent an audio message asking if his friend had been threatened โ little does he know it was the other way around.
The restaurant Alphabet Soup is inspired by the history of Soup City.
As promised, Blayne posted that the relationship was a joke. Some of his followers continue to call him and [Name] a dream couple. Getting that idea out of their head will be more complicated than he thought.
Of all the students [Name] Yarn has met so far, she likes Raven the most. His presence makes her strangely calm. [Name] better watch out, this could take its toll on her in the future.
[Name] spoke with Principal Grimm; his response made her return to the dorm in a bad mood. Regardless, the man seemed to get serious when he saw Raven Queen with her. [Name] left before she could hear anything of their conversation.
Narrative Trivia:
Destiny Changer begins 1 year before Legacy Day; the Rebels don't exist yet, only the Royals.
Raven Queen was the only one of the main cast whose name wasn't changed in the genderbend.
Ironically, the yandere traits of each character will be developed precisely within their greatest qualities! Watch out!
๐ฏ๐จ๐ฝ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐น ๐ซ๐ฌ๐บ๐ป๐ฐ๐ต๐ ๐ท๐น๐ฌ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ป๐ฌ๐น๐ด๐ฐ๐ต๐ฌ๐ซ even before birth is the sentence for all those descended from the stories cultivated in the lands of Ever After. Son of a king or granddaughter of a witch, none of that mattered when the Storybook of Legends was shoved down their throats. A centuries-old tradition, seemingly unbreakable.
WARNINGS: intimidation by the protagonist, insults (also the MC's fault).
"Open your eyes and see what you can with them before they close forever"
All the Light We Cannot See
Incense. Cookies. Flowers.
The items were arranged on the windowsill of the open window.
The morning calm was one of the few things she enjoyed.
Whether by divine intervention or not, [Name] thanked the gods that her roommate had already left early. Honestly, she was determined to go to the principal's office after class, because it was ridiculous that she had to share a room with a boy. One with OCD, no less. I mean, come on, why did it look like he'd ironed the bed? There wasn't a single wrinkle, and it looked like the kind of bed that's super hard to make look nice!
Well, it wasn't her problem either; [Name] had better things to do. However, to her relief, the line of coarse salt had been enough to keep him at a distance when he greeted her the night before. [Name] had no interest in people with little ambition, and judging by the path that young man was on, he had almost none.
Unlike Raven Queen.
Those purple eyes had been etched into her mind since the day before, after she'd set her irritation aside and decided to tease him. The fluorescent purple thread, in a shade fierce enough to be compared to a storm. Ah, and how [Name] liked that kind of person. So rare.
And yet he was hanging out with Mad Hatter, the rat boy.
[Name] rolled her eyes at the memory of the Mad Hatter's son looking at her as if she were the devil himself. And maybe she really was, who knows? She loved provoking others until she brought out the worst in them. Like back when she discovered the right buttons to push to drive her sisters crazy.
Regardless, [Name] wanted to test the waters before doing anything rash, especially since when she's the one who ends up getting hurt, things aren't so funny anymore. Obviously.
So she picked out a black ankle-length skirt and a gray dress shirt, along with a blazer and tie that matched the bottom half. Then the crowning touch: the silver ring with a spinning wheel engraved on top. The Yarn family crest. She didn't know her mother or her father. She hated her sisters. She wore it because she found the design interesting. Simple.
As terrible as it was, [Name] came to the conclusion that she herself was no good in that family. Almost a narcissist. Arrogant enough not to feel guilty about anything.
All right, all those traits were the accessories she'd worn most in recent years. She never went out of style.
When she left the dormitory and headed for the lockers, the hallway was noisy, a hubbub of people, animals, and creatures that [Name] didn't dare name. The floor sparkled just like the fairy dust floating around, the little wings making a flutter-flutter sound. The thump-thump of a giant's footsteps. A notorious trio of pigs nearly knocked her over as she descended the stairsโshe thought pork would be a great option for lunch.
In the distance, she spotted Blayne standing near the entrance hall with the microphone, a wide smile revealing his teeth and rosy cheeks. His bow tie was perfectly aligned with his navy blue suit. People were greeting him during the broadcast, as well as the cameraman holding presenter Lockes' baby-blue tablet.
"Is this okay?" Blayne tapped the bear-shaped microphone with his finger. "There might be a little background noise because of all the commotion, but I'd like to avoid that... Cyrus?"
"It's great! People said there's no interference at all." Cyrus gave a thumbs-up, the cricket on his lilac beret chirping in confirmation.
"Are you sure?"
"You know I don't lie!"
"Yeah, you've got a point." Blayne laughed.
Great, the two of them were having fun right in front of her closet.
[Name]'s expression remained neutral as she watched to see if the pair would realize they were in the way and have the good sense to move out of the way.
And holy shit, they didn't!
"Excuse me," the icy tone cut through the cheerful atmosphere like a knife, "you're in the way."
Crick, crick, crick.
At that moment, even the cricket seemed to look at her, its antennae turned in her direction. Blayne's eyes widened and he turned in slow motion. Cyrus's wooden neck cracked. Silence.
A few students passing by stared at the interaction with raised eyebrows, clearly judging her. [Name] didn't care and continued:
"You're standing in front of my locker."
"Which one?" Blayne asked, dumbfounded.
"Number 333."
"Mine's 332," another voice chimed in; the redheaded girl awkwardly adjusted the crown on her head, offering a sheepish smile.
"Oh..." He turned and saw he was standing right in front of the two lockers in question. "Sorry." His tone was shy, a stark contrast to his earlier extroversion.
Blayne stepped aside, his cheeks red. Not the pink of before, but a vivid, embarrassing tomato red. A live public scolding was far from pleasant.
"And good morning to you both, Croakington and Yarn..." He tried to regain his composure with a light greeting.
"Good morning, Lockes!" The redhead smiled, waving at the camera that was still on.
[Name] didn't respond, nor did she look at the red light coming from the tablet.
The duo went to broadcast from the other side of the hallway. She took a deep breath and began organizing the considerably large closet. It could hold a lot. That Croakington girl seemed to be thinking the same thing, marveling at the space.
"By the enchanted kiss, I fit in here!"
"A couple fits in here too."
"Why a couple?"
It was such a simple and innocent question that [Name] didn't even have the strength to answer. She ignored it and went back to organizing.
"I'm Hope Croakington II, and you? Did Lockes mention Yarnie?"
"Yarn."
"Oh, is that your first name?"
"Last name."
"And your first name?"
"Figure it out."
[Name] closed the closet and tried to pretend not to hear the sound of heels behind her.
Hope was following her.
She tried to weave from side to side, but the redhead wouldn't take her eyes off her for a second. At one point, [Name] glanced over her shoulder and saw those bright green eyes, shining like emeralds, staring at her with barely contained excitement.
"Doesn't she have anything better to do?" [Name] clenched her jaw when she realized she'd reached the castleteria without managing to shake Hope off.
"We should eat together!" Hope exclaimed beside her, gently tugging on the sleeve of [Name]'s shirt.
"Who said I want to eat with anyone?" [Name] brushed the girl's hand away and started walking in another direction. "Go with someone else, go on."
"But... But I want to get to know you!"
"Why?"
"Because I want to!"
"Fuck," [Name] pinched the bridge of her nose.
And of course, the weirdo kept following her, as clingy as those pieces of gum some students stick under their desks. She didn't even seem fazed by [Name]'s harshness. Naive, persistent, shameless โ there were countless ways to describe Hope Croakington II.
"Please, let me sit with you..." Hope pouted, insisting as they waited in line for breakfast. "I don't have anyone to sit with."
"I wonder why," [Name] remarked sarcastically, grabbing a tray and rolling her eyes at the student in front of her who couldn't decide between scrambled eggs and toast. "Just take both and stop holding up the line, you jerk."
The student gasped and froze for a moment, staring at her with wide eyes. Then he grabbed both and walked away without looking back.
"What the hell, man, 7 a.m. and this guy's holding up the line!" she complained, placing two slices of buttered toast on her plate.
"Are you annoyed?"
"Actually, I'm really happy."
"Really?"
[Name] Yarn felt she had a long morning ahead of her.
The blackboard was covered with notes in just a few minutes, with Professor Rumpelstiltskin running up and down the stairs like a complete maniac. What a great way to start the week at a school for magical beings and a whole bunch of categories of living creatures that [Name] hadn't bothered to memorize. Nothing against it, but she wasn't going to cheat. She didn't even take her notebook out of her bag, just her phone with its ghost-themed case, ready to take pictures and print them later.
By some stroke of bad luck, Hope had the first two classes with her, and they were barely halfway through the first one. The frog princess was sitting next to her, doing everything but paying attention in class. She fiddled with the thousand pens in her crown-themed pencil case. She twirled her curls with her finger. She yawned. She winked at [Name] with one eye, as if she had a tic. She made jokes behind the teacher's back the whole time, her green eyes watching Yarn's sulky reaction.
"My tests are individual and no cheating, got it?" The tiny creature bellowed from the front, flashing his few gold teeth. "And to encourage your independence, for every 6 chapters of the book, I'll only cover 2 in class. The rest you must study on your own."
"He just doesn't want to teach," [Name] grumbled, feeling her headache grow worse.
She'd felt like her brain was going to explode ever since breakfast. Besides Hope hounding her, everyone in that place was way too happy. They looked like children, even though they were all adults. [Name] even wondered what it must have been like before the law protecting the children of fairy tales.
Like, did those destined to play the role of Snow White really start the story at age 7? How sick!
"Hey," Hope whispered, nudging her on the shoulder. "I heard from some students earlier that when someone fails their class, they have to spin miles of gold thread to get a passing grade."
"That makes sense."
"It does...?" she asked incredulously, looking at [Name] as if she'd grown three heads instead of one. "That's slave labor."
"Yeah, probably. But using the students for that is way too clever. I think I'd do the same thing." He shrugged, smiling at the thought. "Actually, it's not a bad idea, you know?"
For the rest of the class, Hope remained silent, occasionally casting frightened glances at [Name]. Oh, and of course, this piqued the interest of the little pest Yarn.
"She seems to be easily impressed by things," thought [Name], letting out a conspiratorial chuckle. "I wonder if I..."
Since the next class was Creative Storytelling, [Name] wouldn't be able to test what she wanted that day, but the thought lingered. Tucked away in her box of twisted ideas. Why? What? You ask yourself. Well, the narrator has absolutely no obligation to answer.
We're heading to a storytelling class, and it's important to remember the rule about narrators not telling everything. After all, what's the fun in that? It's much more fun to try to guess things that, objectively, already have an answer.
But back to the wonderful students of Ever After High, they settle into their next classroom under the watchful eye of Jack B. Nimble. Once again, Hope is sitting next to [Name], as if she'd suffered from amnesia. The snarky comment has been forgotten, and the excitement is back.
"Ooh, have you heard that rumor?"
Hope and her gossip.
[Name] wondered where she got all that information from.
"The narrators' son is enrolled here."
"Hm."
"What's with that reaction?!" the redhead whispered-shouted. "He's basically an anonymous student!"
"So what?"
"Girl, think about it."ย Was she telling [Name] to think? She? Hope Croakington II?!ย "Imagine if he's with us right this very moment and we don't even know it?"
"Nonsense, we would've heard his name during roll call, and some voice from beyond would've spoken or something."
Hope snorted and rolled her eyes at the girl's lack of interest, giving in and turning her attention back to Mr. Nimble's class. Most weren't actually focused on the lesson anyway; a good portion were busy chatting in the only place where it was possible to interact with the largest number of fairy tale characters.
And as she scanned the room, [Name] raised an eyebrow at two familiar figures in front of her.
Raven Queen and Maden Hatter.
She smiled mischievously, reaching out and poking the back of Maden's head. Except her finger got tangled in his curls, and she couldn't pull it out.
Shit, shit, shit, shitโ
"Ow!" Maden hissed, jerking his head back.
That movement finally freed [Name]'s finger.
"What... Yarn?" He recoiled in horror, as if the Jaguar were running its claws through his hair.
Of all the people Madden could have imagined seeing behind him in class, [Name] was definitely not one of them. The boy seemed to go through the five stages of grief before looking away.
"What do you want?"
"Just saying hi. I didn't expect to see you here this early."
He flinched, narrowing his eyes at her wry smile.
"Why the long face, Hatter? I'm just saying hello."
"It's not what it looks like."
"Then what does it look like?"
In an act of mental self-preservation, Madden turned his back and went back to paying attention to the teacher. [Name] rolled her eyes and rested her cheek on her palm, feeling sleep weigh down her eyelids. The class buzz died down as the professor began to go over the details of the semester project, which would account for 60% of the final grade.
Mr. Nimble began to ramble. "And so, I hope you'll bring in the accounts of your predecessors. It's extremely important for you to know how they felt as they lived out their destinies, because when you graduate, it will be you."
Seriously, that speech wasn't helping keep her awake, and the sun streaming through the windows balanced with the cold in the room made for the perfect temperature to fall asleep and drool on the desk.
"Shh, Yarn," Hope whispered beside her, snapping her out of her reverie. "I wonder if any of my ancestors had a princess who was disgusted by the idea of kissing them? I mean, they go in prepared anyway... do you think so?"
"Definitely."
"You didn't even think about it."
"Do I need to? Kissing a frog is disgusting." [Name] shuddered. "Eugh!"
Hope blinked, a frown settling over her red lips.
"Not really, huh?"
"Of course not. I'd rather die than kiss something like that."
She watched the redhead wilt, her bright green eyes darkening as the remark seeped into her mind, melting away any fantasy that might have been there.
When class ended and the two had to part ways, [Name] almost felt sorry for Hope, but the feeling was stifled after remembering the girl had been on her case since early on. She deserved it, besides, she hadn't told a single lie. Kissing a frog is disgusting as hell, just like putting pet mice in your tea.
The way Hope couldn't look her in the face after that was kind of funny, too.
"Croakington." [Name] didn't even look up, cutting the chicken into strips. "I thought you said you wanted to eat alone. Did you forget already?"
"What? But you were just kidding, right?"
Holy fuck.
"I mean, nobody likes being alone." Hope pushed the tray onto the table and sat down next to [Name], her shoulders almost touching. "And I missed my new friend so much!" She cooed, daring to place her hand on the other's arm, like a needy cat greeting its owner.
[Name] felt her eye twitch.
"Breathe, don't kill her. Breathe, don't kill her. Breathe, don't kill her," [Name] repeated, feeling the onset of a migraine.
She'd hoped the fiery-haired girl would leave after what she'd said earlier, but for some reason she came back clingier than a child's phlegm. Finally, just as [Name] decided she'd put Hope in a rear-naked choke, the girl let go and began to eat calmly.
"You know, my dad told me that my freckles are the number of flies our ancestors ate."
"Shut up, Croakington."
"DestinyCast" is a parody of "MirrorCast," and will be used to share trivia and other information about Destiny Changer.
[Name] Yarn, in addition to distinguishing the threads of destiny, when close enough, can see the level of ambition of the person by the glow that their thread emits.
Three decades ago, a law was passed in Ever After that protects minors from their destinies. The rulers agreed that the children of fairy tales could only enroll in Ever After High, attend classes, and begin their own destiny after they turned 18. Below that age, the student is strictly prohibited.
In the original tale, Snow White was only 7 years old.
YAN! PHOTOGRAPHER who always hated photographing people.
On the few occasions he had taken photos of someone, he had trembled under the person's fixed gaze staring back at him through the screen. He managed to establish a solid career as a landscape photographer, but he refused all offers made by modeling agencies or anything like that.
However, a golden opportunity arose: to photograph the birthday party of the daughter of one of the world's most famous billionaires.
YAN! PHOTOGRAPHER wasn't stupid enough to let a chance like that slip through his fingers. For goodness sake, the money he would receive was enough for him to live comfortably for a good few years. Ignoring his fear for a few hours would be worth it if it meant having a bank account overflowing with money.
You thought the photographer was a bit odd, but wasn't he cute? Your father should have known what he was doing if he hired him.
YAN! PHOTOGRAPHER feels his breath catch as he takes your picture. You don't look at the camera lens, you look directly into his eyes, gazing into his being, numbing him from all the fear he was feeling.
Of course it was also for work, but he felt that following you around the entire party, taking a barrage of photos of you, was somewhat personal. At a certain point he even forgot he was being paid to do it.
After a few days he delivered your birthday photo album. It was perfect. Your father was pleased, and you were shocked by the quality, wondering if that person was really you. The light reflecting in your eyes. The colorful lights on your skin. The genuine laughter etched onto the photographic paper, a happiness you never imagined you could have radiated in that way.
YAN! PHOTOGRAPHER filled his house with pictures of you. His little obsession that encouraged him to accept many jobs he had previously refused.
Now he works as a photographer for all the agencies that have you as a model. Isn't that lovely?
Oh, but please don't worry if you find pictures of yourself among his things; it's his lucky charm.
You are the light that took away his fear, after all.
๐ฏ๐จ๐ฝ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐น ๐ซ๐ฌ๐บ๐ป๐ฐ๐ต๐ ๐ท๐น๐ฌ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ป๐ฌ๐น๐ด๐ฐ๐ต๐ฌ๐ซ even before birth is the sentence for all those descended from the stories cultivated in the lands of Ever After. Son of a king or granddaughter of a witch, none of that mattered when the Storybook of Legends was shoved down their throats. A centuries-old tradition, seemingly unbreakable.
"This, she realizes, is the basis of all fear. That a light you are powerless to stop will turn on you and usher a bullet to its mark."
ย Allย the Light We Cannot See
Anything that brings out the worst in us is terrifying.
Horrific. Suffocating. Frightful.
In other words: a nightmare.
Everything that tears down the walls we've built around ourselves, leaving us defenseless. Fragile as glass. Porcelain dolls on the edge of a shelf, knowing they'd shatter on the floor with the slightest breeze. That favorite perfume bottle that ends up in the hands of some mischievous child. A beautiful chandelier held by a last thread, about to collapse.
The unknown is one of the worst weapons in this fragile area we all possess. As frightening as an unexpected flood or an annoying relative who decides to visit unannounced. Like grease on your hands; you know that sticky feeling is there, you try to wash it off with soap and water, but the ghost of the sensation remains.
The unknown truly displaces us.
We don't know what to do and we feel like little birds that have just left the nest.
The girl Yarn felt like that. Her ordinary boots seemed to be repelled by the school floor, because they weren't magical enough. Too neutral for wearing basic clothes, yet too flashy in a group of people wearing puffy skirts and noisy accessories that would give them away from miles away. She hadn't thought it would be like this, especially since it wasn't even the first day of school. That day was for everyone to tidy up their rooms, not to walk through a fashion show!
Wouldn't it have been easier if everyone had thought like her to avoid this headache?
And all that tidying up for what? To sweat like a pig and stink? Ridiculous! The girl Yarn felt like she was intruding on some play where she was the only one without a script. She hated being in this position.
She went into the shadows of the trees, swallowing hard when she realized she would have to cross the bridge. She could run, but she would look crazy. Walking hunched over in the corner would give the same impression. Disappearing would make things easier, the problem was knowing how to do it; zero knowledge of magic. For the love of the Storybook of Legends! She barely had any magic!
Yet.
But not now.
Was there someone normal there to make her feel less bad? Someone going through the same situation as her would boost her ego.
What if she put on Moira's cloak? No, she would look like a demonic reaper and people would probably panic. She didn't want that attention right now, it was too much for one day.
Ah, but also, they exaggerated! She would continue across the bridge. [Name] Yarn should get to the dormitory quickly, just as she had promised herself beforeโ
"OW!"
A loud thud propelled her forward. It felt like concrete had been thrown on her back.
"I'm sorry! It was an accident, my levitation magic gets a bit erratic when it's something heavy."
She stopped walking and turned her head slowly.
"Pay attention." Just a warning, nothing more, and she continued on her way.
Tap tap tap.
She felt a twinge in her lower back again but ignored it. It was weak, it didn't deserve the effort of a scolding.
Tap tap tap.
Again, but still manageable to ignore.
Tap tap tap.
THUMP!
"OWโ! DUDEโ!" [Name] felt her breath being stolen from her lungs.
"I'm sorry!"
And there was [Name] Yarn in her natural habitat: irritation.
An explicit and vulgar red signal, showing its claws through the strong throbbing in her ears and narrowed eyes.
"I'm trying to walk and you come and get in my way!" [Name] fumed with anger, and didn't stop even after seeing those wide, shocked purple eyes. "Get that damn box out of my way and get lost! Go! Get lost! Go to the other side!"
The girl even tried to walk further ahead just to avoid conflict, and look what happened.
Four. Blows. To. The. Damn. Back.
"What are you waiting for?" Now she had stopped walking, hands on her hips and raised nose.
"I just wanted to see..."
"See? There's nothing toโ"
"Your back."
"My back?"
"My chest is made of metal, it must have hurt."
"... Hm?" [Name] looked impassive. "Now you realize? Maybe if you had gone another way, I wouldn't need to be wasting my time with you now."
He seemed upset, perhaps even irritated by the furrowed brow of frustration.
"I already apologized!" Frustration dripped like poison. "I have some ointment here, if you show me where I hit you, I can help you."
She looked around; it was empty at that hour. The others had already managed to cross the bridge, and only the two of them remained. The boy seemed determined not to let her go until he checked that she was truly alright and without a scratch, which was funny since he seemed somewhat intimidating if she kept looking for too long.
"Just tell me what you really have in mind."
"What?" He seemed confused.
"So much insistence on seeing if a little bump like that did anything,"ย it hurt like hell, "it seems you just want to see me lifting my clothes in front of you. If someone from outside saw you, they'd think you were a pervert."
"I'm not a pervert."
"Actions speak louder than words."
"But I didn't do anything!"
The boy began to regret trying to communicate with that thing, because it definitely wasn't a normal person!
[Name] loved pressing the right buttons to annoy this stranger, all the previous awkwardness of being a fish out of water vanishing and being replaced by barely contained amusement.
"You know, you're not ugly, you're just not my type," [Name] sighed resignedly. "Maybe if you were a little more chivalrous I'd feel more charmed and give in. Well, I can't be picky, sometimes life is like that, unfair."
The boy's face turned as red as a tomato, anger and shame mixing in a single cup that was about to overflow. Neither of them seemed to have ever crossed paths before for the girl to treat him that way, as if he were an insect and she the hawk that would playfully pluck off each little leg just to see him writhe beneath her.
He'd already been through a lot with his own mother, but in just a few minutes that creature managed to be terribly exhausting, to the point where he wanted to disappear from the face of the earth right there.
"Well? Doesn't it look cute when you think about it? It looks like a dog tilting its head."
She called him a dog?!
"Woof woof."
Now it wasโ?!?!
"Maybe I can communicate with you this way? Or did the cat get your tongue?"
He hadn't even noticed that the answers weren't coming out of his closed throat, as if a rope had been wrapped around his vocal cords. His eyes blinked and the blurriness disappeared like an optical illusion.
This was draining his mental vitality!
His dignity!
"Oops, I went a little too far." Her tone didn't even sound genuinely sorry, it seemed more like she wanted to tape the hole in the wall just to pretend she was trying to keep up appearances. "Look, it was just a few jokes, don't take it personally."
"Youโ"
"I'm [Name] Yarn. Your name." She didn't even ask, she snapped a demand.
"Raven Queen." Raven straightened up for some reason on command and cringed inwardly, realizing he actually looked like a trained dog.
How awful.
"What a strange name, it sounds like a girl."
"It's not a girl's name!"
"So you only have one feminine name?"
"My name isn't feminine!"
Raven felt his neck heating up and his heart pounding in his ears.
Why was she so fixated on the name? Was she making fun of him again?
"Tsk tsk tsk" She sighed like a disappointed old woman watching teenagers graffitiing her house wall. "Raven, my dear, don't you realize?"
"What?..." Raven's voice trembled, afraid of what that interaction might still bring. "Wait, dearโ?"
"Deep down you're a girl and you're destined to become my best friend. Two darknesses are better than one."
By the poisoned apple, she was definitely mocking him!
"Raven, I found you! Thanks to the hat, I thought you'd given up."
The new voice made the pair recognize the approaching figure with her cyan curls with purple streaks, bouncing all the way. He slowed down as he got closer, with an euphoric smile, his eyes shining as he realized Raven had another companion.
And then the smile faltered as he perceived the uncomfortable familiarity that person brought.
[Name] Yarn.
"Ah..."
Well, maybe it was a mistakeโ
"Rat boy." [Name] greeted scornfully.
Raven looked between the two confused and couldn't help but say:
"What?"
Trying the famous blue grape cake from Wonderland Haberdashery & Tea Shoppe was worthy of a MirrorCast feature. His fingers tilted the photo on the tablet screen and began frantically clicking the side tools.
In no time, the slice filled with blue grapes and topped with white chocolate and ant-shaped sprinkles gleamed like a rare antique in Blayne Lockes' hands. He hadn't even eaten it, but the thousands of likes he received the instant he posted it compensated for whatever the taste of that dubious grape was. Or the exorbitant price that threw a good chunk of his allowance down the drain, under the context of: "it's hard to grow Wonderland stuff in Ever After".
Well, whatever, at least the post didn't flop.
He placed the cake on the medium porcelain plate and pushed the hat-shaped box to the corner of the table. The fork sank from the crispy topping to the fluffy dough, as if passing through clouds. One bite. An involuntary grunt of satisfaction escaped his throat as he felt the flavor melting on his taste buds like a divine blessing.
As he ate, his eyes drifted to the other half of the room, which he thought wouldn't be filled anytime soon. Ironically, being known for always wanting everything perfect and tailor-made, Blayne was last on the dorm list, an odd number. No pair. No dormmate.
And then, like a satire of the universe, the walls on the opposite side were covered with posters about astronomy, astrology, and heads of famous philosophers like Dragontes and Fairiestotle. The stone statues seemed to stare at him as if he were the intruder, not the other way around. The bed was in the corner next to the window, a thick gray duvet on top and a banana-shaped plush toy between two white pillows.
Nothing there matched, neither the colorful stones on the desk nor the garish jumble of candles and incense on the dresser. And on the bookshelf. And on the window. And on the wall.
Why so many candles and incense?
Whatโ why was there a line of coarse salt in the middle of the room?!
And why was there a skirt thrown on the chair?
That made the blond man's investigative โ gossipy โ mind start working at full speed. For now, he wouldn't cross to the other side; the line of coarse salt still intimidated him a little deep down.
He finished the cake and left the room, stopping in front of the sign next to the door.
๐ฉ๐ณ๐จ๐๐ต๐ฌ ๐ณ๐ถ๐ช๐ฒ๐ฌ๐บ
[๐ต๐ถ๐ด๐ฌ] ๐๐จ๐น๐ต
Who was [Name] Yarn?
"She's terrible, Raven! I swear!" A shrill voice rang out from across the hall, prompting Blayne to strain his ears. It was Maden. "I only saw and interacted with her once, never again!"
Blayne Lockes' eyes widened as if he'd heard the news of the century. And in that respect, it was. Maden Hatter disliking someone to that extent meant the person was Satan himself or... Blayne couldn't even formulate another option, because he'd never seen the future Mad Hatter react that way. It seemed to be a deep-seated resentment, judging by the rare scowl on his face.
"I don't know, she just reminded me a little of Kitt earlier." Raven scratched the back of his neck.
"Don't compare Kitt to her, that's offensive!"
The pair stopped walking when they recognized Blayne staring at them strangely, eyebrows raised and mouth closed, an iron gate that everyone knew protected from the sharp, questioning tongue of the future Goldilocks. He straightened his posture and flashed a smile full of pearly teeth the instant attention fell on him.
"Raven and Maden, how are you?" He softened his wide smile to something more discreet, just enough for his dimples to show. "You seem stressed."
"Ah..." Raven blinked and shifted her weight to one foot. "It's just that Mad won't stop talking about that girl we saw earlier. She didn't even do anything wrong..."
Blayne narrowed his eyes. He didn't feel much conviction in the last sentence and watched Maden huff beside him at his best friend's words.
"Well, what's her name? Maybe I know her." Blayne threw out the bait.
"[Name] Yarn." Raven replied with a shrug. "I personally have never heard of her, but you might know who she is."
Silence hung in the air, clinging like glue, bringing the group to a halt. Blayne's gaze slowly drifted to the sign beside the dormitory entrance, the name below his seemingly mocking the horrified expression contorted in his face.
"Wait, she's your roommate!" Maden exclaimed with a sigh. "Poor thing."
"Mad." Raven scolded. "Why don't we try giving her a chance? She can't be that bad, there has to be a reason for her reaction."
"She called me a rat boy."
"And why?"
"..."
"Maden."
"That's beside the point."
"Well, then there's a reason."
"I was a cute and innocent child, I didn't deserve to go through this!"
Maden Hatter wasn't lying, really. Everyone who lived in Ever After knew that the boy, as a child, was the star attraction of his father's shop. That lively and curious child who knew everyone and charmed them in equal measure. However, if Blayne wasn't mistaken, in the few times he interacted with him in childhood, the boy was very eccentric. Positively and negatively. Not that Blayne was going to complain about anything at that point, but their conversation occupied the boy's mind for the next few hours.
There was no way his roommate โ he discovered it was a girl โ could be that bad. Although the strangeness already started with the fact that they put someone of the opposite gender to share the same room as him. Nothing against it, but Blayne felt uncomfortable. This [Name] girl must have felt even more uncomfortable being... well, a girl.
And the day went on like that, slowly, the interaction with Raven and Maden gradually being forgotten. Blayne had other things to do, like finding out something about Aiden and Daisy's relationship. Hold a voting contest for the most fantastical room in Ever After High. Try the castleteria porridge. Put the shirts in order by shade in the wardrobe.
He had an endless number of things to do.
So, being the perfectionist he was, Blayne managed to do all of that before 3 PM, even posting a new story for each completed task. And yet something was missing. That little bit of chaos that generated real engagement. The likes every second. The shares. That kind of news that becomes a topic of conversation among private groups of friends.
"Is he seriously still insisting on this?" Beau rolled his eyes behind his pink glasses, poking the grilled steak on his plate with barely contained irritation. "No offense, Aiden, but you were unlucky."
"That's not true!" Aiden White's plumper fingers tightened around his juice glass. "Raven just didn't... didn't..."
"Didn't what?"
"He doesn't know what's best for him." He gave a weak smile. "But he'll understand, Beau. He has to understand."
Blayne shoved a spoonful of lukewarm porridge into his mouth, alternating his attention between the two Royals' conversation. Nervous. The hand holding the utensil was sweaty, and it gradually became harder to grip the metal between his fingers. The school year only started tomorrow, and there was already trouble lurking in the halls of Ever After High.
"What do you think, Lockes?" Beau dropped the bombshell on the unsuspecting boy.
"Me?" he squealed shrilly. The porridge cooled in his mouth and went down imperfectly through Blayne's refined throat. "Iโaha, well, I think it's problematic, you know? The person not wanting to follow their own destiny and all that. That's why I'm 100% Royal!" he finished with a proud smile.
"I hope you, Aiden, manage to plant this idea in Raven's head before the principal finds out." The future sleeping beauty snorted.
Aiden choked on his drink. "No, no, no." He shook his head, his blond curls swaying from side to side. "Principal Grim can't find out about something like that. Raven's idea has to die soon enough that this information doesn't even reach him!"
Not wanting to be pessimistic, but Blayne doubted that something like that wouldn't reach Principal Grim's ears. That man always finds out one way or another. He swung his feet under the table, letting his gaze wander around the deserted castleteria. Most of the students were still unpacking, skipping afternoon coffee.
In fact, he hadn't even caught a glimpse of his roommate yet, even after searching the entire institute. Even though the matter had died down earlier, as soon as Raven and Maden disappeared, curiosity stirred Blayne's mind again.
"Hey, earlier," he began, drawing the attention of the other two, "I talked to Raven and Maden."
"I also spoke with both of them today." Aiden tilted his head, confused.
"Yeah, but Maden was talking badly about my roommate."
That's what made Aiden and Beau raise an eyebrow.
"We can't be thinking about the same person." Beau looked around with a nervous smile.
"We're going to have two students named Maden? My goodness!" Aiden added with a soft laugh.
"No, guys, it's Maden Hatter. There's no other one."
Aiden and Beau looked at each other, their eyes wide.
This was a joke, right? There was no way Maden Hatter, the Mad Hatter's son, could speak ill of anyone. He was too good and innocent for such a thing!
"Oh, it wasn't really speaking ill, you know? Just a little complaint."
"Okay..." Beau stepped back, hands in front of his body. "And what did this person do?"
"Called him 'rat boy'."
"Isn't that bullying?" Aiden frowned, his eyes wide with horror. "By the enchanted apple, poor Maden!"
Blayne sweated at his friend's reaction. "Definitely, that's terrible behavior," he agreed without really caring much. I mean, he'd been called a "blabbermouth" in childhood and he hadn't died because of it. "Even so, I'm curious to meet her."
"Why did they put a girl as your roommate?" Beau interjected again, increasingly indignant. "Lockes, this smells like trouble..."
"I don't want to jump to conclusions without even having met her yet," he dismissed, the warning going in one ear and out the other. "She's certainly not worse than the Evil Queen."
The sun began to set in the background, the golden hour reflecting on the dining hall area where they were. Aiden bit his lower lip at the mention of the cruel queen, his own destiny replaying in his head; all those lessons about the story of Snow White. The kingdom expected him to lead with precision and kindness after going through the terrible near-death experiences.
"Worse than the Evil Queen is someone who thinks about not following their own destiny," Aiden sighed. "I don't even want to think about it now."
As night fell, Blayne was bothered by Aiden's dejected figure at the table, as if he also knew deep down that Raven would soon cause more trouble with that crazy idea of โโcircumventing her own destiny. He really didn't know what to say; after all, the Goldilocks story didn't need the Evil Queen to work.
But what if one of the bears refused to participate? Would he have the porridge at the perfect temperature and a bed of the perfect size?
Blayne Lockes locked his thoughts away, focusing on turning the doorknob of the dormitory door. And finally, after a whole day missing, his mysterious roommate lay lazily on her own bed, reading a red-covered book.
"Good evening!" Blayne greeted, careful not to cross the line of coarse salt in the middle of the room. "You're [Name] Yarn, right?"
[E/c] eyes flickered toward him for a moment before returning to the pages. Phew. She flipped the page and continued reading silently.
"I'm Blayne Lockes"
"I know, it's on the nameplate in the room."
Ouch.
Well, he wasn't going to let that dampen the perfect day he'd had with his friends. It was fun talking to people he hadn't seen in ages, or eating the castleteria porridge his mother talked so much about at home.
Blayne grabbed his pajamas from the wardrobe and headed to the bathroom to change. Thinking about it now, it was awkward to share a dorm room with one of the only people he didn't know at Ever After. Worse still: someone people only spoke badly of and who didn't even look him in the face properly when he greeted her.
Emerging from the bathroom with a fresh change of clothes, Blayne glanced sideways at the nearly asleep figure on the other side, her hair tousled against the pillow and the unfamiliar book still in her hands.
[Name] Yarn wouldn't be such a bad roommate after all... right?
YOUR FAMILY NEVER GOT ALONG VERY WELL WITH THE HOODS, those strange humans who lived on the other side of the creek, walking around in their red hoods and carrying baskets of treats. It might sound silly, but the fact that those humans killed one of your ancestors years ago was the main reason for your family estrangement.
Wolf doesn't speak to Hood.
Hood doesn't speak to Wolf.
And yet, there you were, staring in disbelief at the tall boy, stealing the strawberries you grew in your backyard. His red clothes gave away where he came from. And he knew where he was, because as soon as he heard you approaching, he tilted his head, his strawberry-stained fingers in his mouth, still having the audacity to give a little smile.
You didn't react at first, but your body did, your tail ceasing to wag and your ears perked up in alert. No growl. No curse. Silence engulfed you both in that lovely late afternoon, while that scene repeated itself for the hundredth time in your life: Rory Hood invading your house as if he owned it.
"Ah, [Name]โฆ" He dared to look embarrassed. "I didn't expect you to come back so soonโ"
"Get out."
"What?"
"Get out of my house. Now."
Rory pouted, but instead of leaving, he stood up and finished wiping his hands on his pants. He didn't seem bothered. Worse, he seemed used to it, not flinching when you took a threatening step forward.
"Oh, so now you're going to pounce on me and choke me in anger, right?"
"What are you talking about, you idiot?!"
You recoiled as he approached, his grey eyes narrowed.
"Why don't you like me?" Rory sighed sadly, running his hands through his dark hair. "I swear on my grandmother I'd do anything for you to at least stop looking at me like a pest," he complained.
"Well, I mean, you kind of are," you shrugged. "You wiped out half my strawberries in less than a month, you fatso."
"But that's because it was part of the aesthetic! Didn't you find me seductive licking my fingers?" he insisted, whining.
"I found it disgusting," you shuddered before pointing to a tap on the outside wall. "Wash that crap away, I swear I'll chase you away with a broom if you come near me with those vermin."
He sighed, but didn't object, sadly walking to the tap and washing his hands.
"Are you going to kiss me now?" Rory looked over his shoulder, his eyelashes trembling, still rubbing his hands together.
"Wasn't stealing a kiss from me last week enough?"
"If it had been, I wouldn't be asking for another one now."
He shook his clean, damp hands a few times, splashing water on the grass and the outside wall of the house. For a moment he didn't look at you, but at where he had been before, where a small reddish trail marked the green grass, illuminated by the golden beams of the late afternoon.
"You knowโฆ" he began, "I really like your garden. It reminds me of you."
"Ha! Getting poetic after eating my strawberries?"
"Strawberries aren't important."
You sighed, turning your back and opening the back door. There was no point in trying to fix that guy anymore, or instilling in his head that your families are rivals. No, he seemed to have extreme difficulty understanding that. He tried to approach you in every possible situation. He barely got close and already wanted to put his hands on you. He stole kisses that tasted like apple pie, which, however irritating it was, left you weak in the knees.
Rory Hood was an enigma who won you over with his persistence, and perhaps he only stopped taking you seriously because he knew how easily you melted at his silly flirting and hands on your hips.
"You didn't say you liked me today," he continued complaining as he stole a slice of the cake you'd left resting on the kitchen counter. "Or maybeโฆ" he gave a mischievous little smile, "โฆyou do love me."
"Eat the cake and be quiet," you replied irritably, pouring the juice from the pitcher into two glasses. "And seriously, not to be annoying, but how on earth do you cross the creek without anyone seeing you?"
"Well, it's a mystery of life, isn't it? A magician can't reveal his secrets," Rory hesitated before adding, "it's better that some things remain unknown."
"Seriously? That only makes you seem more suspicious," you said without much thought.
For some strange reason, Rory sits quietly, drinking the glass of juice you gave him, his eyes wandering over the warm decor of your kitchen. The white blinds, the red checkered tablecloth, a few potted plants in random spots, and of course, a large window above the stove, allowing the sun to kiss the room one last time before disappearing and giving way to the moon.
His hazel eyes followed you as you tidied up the kitchen, the empty glass on the table.
For a moment, he thought you had discovered the body parts he had buried in your garden.
YAN! FASHIONISTA who doesn't give a damn about the new secretary they put in place of the old one. Honestly, where did you get that ridiculous sweater with kittens on it? He wanted to fire you as soon as he saw it, but he changed his mind when he remembered all the paperwork he'd need to sign to make it happen.
YAN! FASHIONISTA who finds it funny how you try to simultaneously hang his designer coat on the hanger while talking to a client on the phone.
YAN! FASHIONISTA who rolls his eyes every time you take too long to bring the coffee to his desk.
YAN! FASHIONISTA who, on any given day, has to blink twice when he sees you walk into the office wearing one of the dresses he designed years ago. The dress accentuated all the right places, the ones he'd never deigned to glance at before. He hummed with satisfaction at his choice and returned to work in silence.
YAN! FASHIONISTA who tried to hide his flushed cheeks when he saw you bending down to pick up a pen from the floor, revealing a little more of your thighs.
You, a recent journalism graduate with a mountain of bills to pay, were surprised when your strict boss, known as the Ice King, started giving you clothes from projects he wouldn't be using anymore. Blouses, coats, bags, hats, scarves... in a single month you could barely rummage through your wardrobe without a piece of clothing falling on your head.
Your relationship with the other secretary was reasonably good, but lately she seemed afraid to talk to you. On the other hand, your boss started taking you from one place to another, taking you to fashion shows and charity auctions.
YAN! FASHIONISTA who became desperate when you spent a day away. It's fine that you went to the doctor, but not seeing you wearing the clothes he gave you or leaving coffee on his table made him deeply upset. The other secretary and the other workers in his department avoided him for the rest of the day. In that fit of rage, he was capable of choking someone with a magazine.
YAN! FASHIONISTA who pretended everything was normal when you returned. However, for some unknown reason, your table was now next to his.
๐ฏ๐จ๐ฝ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐น ๐ซ๐ฌ๐บ๐ป๐ฐ๐ต๐ ๐ท๐น๐ฌ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ป๐ฌ๐น๐ด๐ฐ๐ต๐ฌ๐ซ even before birth is the sentence for all those descended from the stories cultivated in the lands of Ever After. Son of a king or granddaughter of a witch, none of that mattered when the Storybook of Legends was shoved down their throats. A centuries-old tradition, seemingly unbreakable.
From childhood, [Name] had grown accustomed to watching the three women sitting in armchairs fiddling with those strings, large and small, almost nonstop. Occasionally they would argue. Sometimes they would spend hours without even looking at each other because there was so much work.
Usually, Cloe was the first to stop when the other two, Lana and Astrid, complained about so many strings appearing one after the other. The blonde would huff, rise from the red armchair, and strut to the kitchen with a pout as big as a building.
"I'm going to make pasta."
"You always make pasta," [Name] said, confused.
Why did they announce what they were going to do if they always did the same thing?
"I like strings," Cloe continued, turning on the stove.
While Lana liked to stretch the noodles with a fork, and Astrid ate the pasta with a knife, cutting the noodles as she did with the strings all day, Cloe liked to make the noodles.
None of them completely disconnected from work, so [Name], a child, had to learn to do something after many attempts to get their attention. Throwing herself on the floor and crying loudly didn't do much besides get a bandage put on her knee and a sugar cube shoved in her mouth. Building a cardboard dragon only earned her a punishment; the creature had become hopelessly snared in the strings, taking the sisters hours to untangle. Everything was gray and boring, just like the Fates' work.
In this inner solitude, she decided to venture into the attic, rummaging through the dusty trunks looking for something more fun than watching three adults dictate the lives of others through a string. [Name] sneezed several times, then gave up for a few minutes on going back into the attic.
However, with the same determination of a hero destined to slay the beast of prophecy, she decided to clean and take everything for herself moments later, ignoring her teary eyes and itchy nose.
Her three "mothers" wouldn't mind, right? No one stopped working; that place had been abandoned for who knows how long. Time? Those Fates worked with that and still didn't know how to manage it!
It was difficult; it took two days going up and down the attic until the place was habitable. The dust motes flying when the late afternoon sun shone through the circular window in the center were no longer visible, and the cobwebs had disappeared with the green duster she found in a box.
Books in languages โโshe had never seen before were placed on top of the dresser she found under a white sheet. She thought it was a ghost, but it was something older than that, carved wood in a rectangle with drawers. Next to the dresser, [Name] placed a gray comforter and threw a pillow and a banana-shaped plush toy on top.
That attic would be her little corner.
The world she cleaned and shaped so that it would be just hers.
At age 10, [Name] went with the three girls to the village of Book End. The reason? Lana's favorite chocolate had run out, and when the redhead runs out of chocolate, the Yarn house becomes a living hell.
"Maybe she just needs a boyfriend," Cloe chuckled behind her hand.
"You should have said that when she kissed her own reflection in a mirror," Astrid rolled her eyes.
"For your information, Astrid, I was imagining Heir Styles!"
The girl blinked, watching the three argue amongst themselves like heated schoolgirls, forcing people to open a corridor and take shelter away from the sparks flying between them.
Their destination was the Wonderland Haberdashery & Tea Shoppe, a building on the corner that looked like it was about to collapse at any moment. The walls had an unusual curvature, the giant yellow teapot on the ceiling emitted smoke that changed color, and outside, on the outdoor tables, the parasols were rotating teacups that made a creaking ceramic sound.
Too much information.
Instead of feeling the excitement a child would feel in a place like that, [Name] recoiled and grimaced.
Exaggerated.
Horrible.
Who decided that mixing zebra print with Christmas gift wrapping on a chair would be a good idea?
Well, she didn't stand much of a chance when she saw the adults advancing towards the door, unaffected by the atmosphere. The girl quickened her pace and passed through the door, shuddering when the doorbell, instead of tinkling, let out a roar.
The walls were a purple checkerboard that stretched at least seven meters high, displaying clocks and doors with no way to get through. A single counter at the back of the shop seemed to operate on its own through an invisible force; saucers and cups of decidedly different pairs joined together in peculiar pairs. Purple with green. Polka dots with blue stripes. A cup shaped like an elephant's head on top of a plain white plate.
What was that supposed to be?
A huge teapot appeared confidently and began serving the cups one after another, and as they were filled, they were carried by soap bubbles to the order table, bursting when they hit the surface.
However, when it finished serving, the teapot stood straight towards the Moirai who waited patiently in front of the counter.
"Chocolate," Lana said, throwing a bag of coins onto the counter.
The object tilted in the air. It stood straight again. It beeped twice and released a rat in a hat that jumped onto the shelf and climbed to the top.
"How disgusting..." [Name] frowned, remembering that the same teapot had served...
Ugh!ย
No!
How awful!
The rat pushed a box that fell into a large soap bubble and floated until it stopped in front of the redhead. She smiled contentedly, ignored the fact that a rat had come out of a teapot, and thanked it for the service.
"Ladies Yarn." A child's voice interrupted.
The four turned their heads towards the figure next to the counter, spotting a head of cyan-purple hair, unruly strands sticking out in every possible direction.
"Maden, darling, you've grown so much!"
"Yes!" He shouted loud enough for the whole establishment to hear. "And now I can teach Grey to help me while Daddy takes care of other things!"
"I saw, he's the one who got the chocolate for me." Lana giggled and patted the boy's head.
[Name] frowned.
The three women continued chatting with him, asking him to send each of their regards to the Hatter and to let him know they planned to stop by soon for a Wonderland-style afternoon tea. Heavens, Maden jumped up and waved his arms, sang compliments, and wished them a safe return.
He only noticed the girl who was apparently his age when they were saying goodbye, revealing a [Name] huddled behind the tall figures.
Maden's cyan eyes widened, and an enthusiastic greeting was about to escape his lips.
The greeting died on the tip of his tongue when she spoke first.
"You're the one who put that rat in the teapot?" she began, wrinkling her nose.
"Yes, I was," Maden innocently agreed. "Grey likes iced tea."
"Well, why doesn't he make it somewhere of his own? Putting him in a teapot meant for other people is simply disgusting."
A terrifying silence filled the once cheerful atmosphere of the small group.
"[Name], don't talk to the boy like thatโ"
"If he doesn't accept this, he's equally disgusting!"
"[Name]!"
And wow, she felt a surge of amusement pull within her, watching the boy's excitement die and the three usually impassive Fates go into a frenzy in front of her.
That day, when the Mad Hatter entered the establishment, he found his son hopping on one leg with a tearful face, three desperate adults trying to calm him down, and a girl sitting in the corner of the room with a smile that could disturb the devil himself.
At age 11, [Name] discovered with the lightness of a feather that she was naturally a terrible person. She didn't care about anything, as long as she got what she wanted. And when the three Fates realized this, they bitterly regretted not having fixed it sooner.
"[Name], we didn't raise you like this!" Astrid scolded, hands on her hips.
"Exactly, youย didn'tย raise me." [Name] didn't even bother to look up, continuing to read the book in Latin as if it were just a normal Wednesday with a rainbow shining in the background, and not a Monday in the attic with her 3rd "mother" trying to teach her manners 11 years later.
"That incident at the Hatter's shop should have been enough!"
"That's true." Her [e/c] eyes narrowed and her lips trembled in a barely contained smile. "If I saw a rat crawling out of the dishes in a restaurant, that would be enough for me to never set foot in that place again."
At 13, [Name] realized she could alter the mood of the house however she wanted. All the attention she struggled to get was now at her fingertips, because unlike her childhood where she lacked experience, she now knew the exact buttons to irritate those around her.
To irritate Cloe, all she had to do was hide all the pasta from the pantry. She seemed like an enraged kraken in the middle of a sea storm.
Lana, seemingly the calmest, only needed her workspace to be cleaned with cinnamon-scented cleaning products. It triggered her rhinitis, and she had difficulty working with strings while sneezing.
Astrid had the longest list, like a volcano about to erupt with the slightest pebble that dared to fall inside. Leaving the hallway light on at night. Over-seasoning the lunch salad. Hiding the scissors she used to end other people's lives.
In a short time, [Name] became something fearsome in that house.
At 14, she calmed down, toned down the pranks, and decided to ask for a crochet kit for her birthday. The three Fates didn't think twice before giving her a different kit, a welcome respite after three years of pure disturbance and rebellion.
Every now and then an item would disappear, but then reappear with a crochet "outfit."
"You looked at me like I was the devil himself," [Name] confided at dinner once. "They were just harmless jokes."
"Well, you didn't make it easy," Lana looked up, watching the girl tilt her head towards her plate of food.
"But making it easy wasn't my goal anyway. I wanted to annoy," the teenager laughed as she stuffed a piece of chicken into her mouth. "You know, you were great entertainment."
Astrid sighed and closed her eyes in resignation. Cloe bent down to get more pasta.
"Cloe, that's enough!"ย
"It's just a little bit!"
When [Name] turned 15, the Fates thought it was an excellent idea to reveal that they were all sisters from the same parents. They threw the birth certificates on the table after calling a spontaneous family meeting, imagining that revealing their relationship on her birthday would make her jump for joy and not simply traumatize her with what came next.
"So you didn't adopt me randomly... and you're my sisters?" [Name] raised an eyebrow, feeling a bad premonition. "And where are our parents?"
"Mom died in childbirth, Dad ran away, and it's just us." Cloe dropped the bombshell as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
It wasn't.
It hit her like a ton of bricks.
They didn't sugarcoat the news, but it certainly arrived like a parade float, running over everything in its path, including the little mental stability [Name] had that day.
"Couldn't you have chosen a better date to reveal something like this?!" The girl left the table and marched toward the attic.
She didn't come down until the next day.
"One for you... one for me..." the girl whispered as she held out the match.
It was her 18th birthday.
A candle and incense were lit side by side in the attic, one symbolizing a year of life and the other respect after death. The worn frame with the photo of a smiling woman was placed beside the cake, the black and white quality marked with checkered patterns from the many times [Name] had taken the photo out and folded it to put in her pocket every time she went out.
She felt less lonely.
"I'm starting school next month. My sisters don't know yet." Her gaze softened as she watched the smoke from the candle and incense swirl around each other, forming a spiral. "I don't think they'll even notice."
After they revealed her mother's death after giving birth, [Name] realized that everything she had suffered during her childhood had a reason. The idea that the Fates were "addicted" to their work was merely an excuse to avoid as much as possible any contact with something that led to their mother's death.
"Do you regret giving birth to me, mom?"
The question lingered, sank in.
Then the candle and incense went out as the summer air invaded the room.
