Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If there was one thing that was certain: it was that you did not play Love and Deepspace for the plot. If anything, you saw an ad for that apple-obsessed colonel and decided to play the game until your brain hurt. Seeing yourself in the world after playing it until your eyes burned was not something you expected.

Yet, you were here nonetheless. Smushed into a world that already had a myriad of quirks and tricks, and conveniently placed into a life as one of the most inconspicuous NPCs imaginable. Sure, you worked at the Destiny Café, but it wasn’t that bad. You got paid enough to make ends meet, plus your coworkers were hilarious. The worst part though? Probably the girl sitting in one of the booths, looking conveniently like how you’d made her.

“Which one do you think she’s waiting for this time?” Drew, one of the managers you usually got paired with on shifts, whispered, leaning against the cash register with a sick grin.

“Hm, maybe the doctor? I don’t want to see the painter again.”

You turned your other coworker’s way, eyebrow raised. “How do you know he’s a painter?”

Rhea gaped, calling out a customer’s order before turning back to you. “He’s the Rafayel Qi. I’m surprised you don’t know him.”

Oh, you knew him. Probably better than you’d like to admit as someone who always lost your fifty-fifty to him and Sylus. Though, you preferred the fish rather than the crow. “Not ringing a bell, buddy.”

Drew moved over, letting you take his spot at the register as he helped Rhea with the incoming online orders. “He’s a prolific painter or some shit. Rhea’s the art student, not me.”

“Dude, my professor sent, like, thirty emails to his manager, but the guy refused to come in for a presentation because it was, and I quote, ‘beneath him.’” She sighed, “A shame. His artstyle is so fucking pretty too. Too bad he’s an asshole.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your head to look ahead towards the entrance to the Café. Instead of the recognizable purple hair or calm and collected man the three of you had been seeing coming in and out during the past week, it was a familiar blond wearing a tattered sweater. He offered a polite wave to MC before heading over to the register.

Jesus, were his eyes that blue in game? And his hair? You absentmindedly wondered what sort of hair care routine he had before it fully hit you. You were not ready to talk to these fuckers. You were lucky enough before to be on dish duty and drink-making duty when MC, Rafayel, or Zayne ordered stuff, but you were not about to take this guy’s order.

“Drew, take over.” You whispered, trying to force the man back into his position.

“No? I’m doing online orders right now.”

“You-” Xavier stopped in front of the register, blinking owlishly at you with those scary blue eyes. You sucked in a breath, forcing your most polite customer service smile. Good lord, you were so doomed. “Hello, welcome to Destiny Café. What can I get for you?”

He stared at you for a second, eyeing your hesitant smile before shrugging. “It’s my first time here. What do you recommend?”

You didn’t drink half the shit on the menu. You mostly hated coffee and you would only drink some of the teas and matcha drinks if you made them yourself, since Rhea always made them wrong and Drew was busy playing café manager half the time to make shit for you. You were drawing blanks left and right.

“Uh… how about I surprise you?” You said instead, internally yelling at yourself for your own stupidity. 

“Surprise?” He and Rhea chorused at the same time. At his stare, Rhea immediately flushed in embarrassment before returning to the online order preparation.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “It’ll just be five dollars. Are you… uh, allergic to anything?”

He deflated slightly as if disappointed with himself. “I’m lactose intolerant.”

Okay… no dairy then. “Alright,” you muttered, ignoring the itch to massage the incoming headache brewing at your temples. “And can I get a name?”

You were barely looking at him at this point, inputting a random drink while he spoke his name in that strange voice of his. Did he always sound this… soft in the game? It was kinda pathetic, but then again he was living a double-life as far as you were aware. “Okay. Your drink’ll be done in about five minutes.”

Xavier stared you for a moment longer, eyes curious. He was trying to figure you out—your avoidant stare and deadpan expression—before his gaze caught on your name tag. He spoke, soft as ever, “…Thank you, (Name).” Then he paid and left a hefty cash tip into the shared tip jar, even bothering to spare you a warm smile before he trodded over to where MC sat. 

You stared at the two of them for a second, muttering under your breath about what a weirdo he was before shoving Rhea towards the register. She began to point out that he was a new “love interest” in your MC’s life, Drew staring over your shoulder at them as you made a simple drink for the resident alien.

You sighed loudly, shoulders drooping as you used the syrup bottles by the foam machine. “Could you two be any less subtle? Like actually. It’s astounding how loud the two of you can be.”

“Quiet, child,” Drew said, “my show is on.”

Rhea scoffed, taking a new customer’s order with a cheery smile before saying, “This is our soap opera, (Name). This is like that old show The Summer I Turned Pretty, but if she was already pretty and if there was three men instead of just two.”

Old? That shit-show was coming out with its third season when you were in your dimension or time-whatever. Which was—and this hurt you to think about—twenty-three fucking years ago, according to the Love and Deepspace timeline. 

Your shoulders drooped at the thought of having to pirate a bunch of YouTube videos and other shows and movies, considering a whole lot of them probably don’t exist beyond that anymore, before you carefully put the drink you were making into a plastic cup. Then you wrote Xavier’s name on the side, calling it out as you placed it on the side counter.

He walked up to the counter as the three of you started getting into a whisper match about old shows, sparing you a glance at your incredulous gasp at being called old.

“Excuse me? I’m twenty-two!”

Drew shook his head, looking towards Xavier with a taunting grin. “Question for you: how old do you think she is?”

Placed on the spot, not even three sips into his order, and he still answered with, “Twenty-two. Like she said. This drink is good by the way.”

“It’s lavender lemonade, and thank you,” you said to him, looking towards your coworkers with a shit-eating grin. “Suck on that. The customer is always right.”

The shift carried on as usual after Xavier wandered back to MC, with you being on table cleaning duty after Drew threw a bitchfit over five dollar surprise drinks. When the two left together, Rhea watching with the subtlety of a fucking hammer through drywall, she asked, “D’you think she’s going to bring another one in?”

Your manager let out a snicker. “Ember? Oh hell yeah. She loves our coffee and she probably knows we get a kick out of watching her soap opera lifestyle of seeing three men at a time.”

You simply flipped the open sign to closed, getting ready to start cleaning off the table the two were just sitting at before you paused. “Hold up. Her name is Ember?” Your question was left unanswered with Drew and Rhea’s incoming argument about which “love interest” was hotter. 

All you could really do about it was roll your eyes, cleaning off the table before realizing there was still a piece of paper on it. It was quickly jotted down, with scraggly handwriting too. A mere thank you from one man out of five that you used to gamble for and rage over, and at the bottom? A number.

You tossed it into the waste bin before grabbing the disinfectant spray. You were not touching this storyline with a ten-foot pole, especially since Xavier wasn’t even supposed to find interest in anyone besides MC. All you really wanted was to live your paycheck to paycheck lifestyle, spend money on frivolous things, and watch this whole thing unfold like a romance drama. Which, technically, it was a romance drama with a bunch of other shit mixed in.

Besides, he probably meant for Ember (again, you would never name your MC something that awful) to pick up the note.

When you were finished, you watched your two coworkers flick water at one another until you cleared your throat. You placed your hands on your hips, cleaning rag at your side as you chirped, “You know, I hope she brings in a pilot next.”

“A pilot? Why?”

It took everything in you not to giggle like a teenage girl, stifling in the smirk that quirked at the edge of your lip as you spoke, “No reason. Just think it’ll be cool is all.”

Chapter Text

A plus side to living smack dab in the center of Linkon was that you were closest to all the most popular haunts. Your favorite though? An old arcade down the street from the main one you recognized in the game. It had the original Legend of Zelda game, plus a bunch of other arcade games which were now deemed “archaic” by most people your age.

To you, though? They were merely just games from when you were a kid and your dad would bring you to his old haunts from the ‘80s. You will say this, however, that getting blown up on your day off has been knocking you off your game of kicking ass and getting raffle tickets.

the night shift (my buddy mike did this once)

rhea bodea
bruh ember’s new boytoy came back
asking for you (name)

lord fergalicious
bro huh

rhea bodea
he wants u sooooo bad

lord fergalicious
stop playing with me on my day off bruh

dr drew
First off, he wanted to know
what drink you made for him the other day
because he already forgot,
(Name)
dr drew
Second off, Rhea get off your fucking phone
and work 😤

You stared at your phone blankly for five minutes before tucking it back into your pocket. When you were back in your world, before this whole isekai mess that you found yourself in, you had a pretty high affinity with Xavier. The thing is though, even despite the fact he spoke to you like he knew you in some way, that affinity couldn’t have transferred over. Ember, the MC, would have to get it.

And you? If you were lucky, he would stop this madness and leave you the fuck alone. Karens bitching about their wrong orders was something you could handle, but Ever and the whole mess that came with Love and Deepspace’s storyline? Fuck no. You got squeamish over spiders in your apartment and you could only watch horror movies during the day with every single light on. You were not built for that kind of life.

With your fat wad of tickets in one hand and your phone in the other, you carefully trailed over to the prize counter. There were probably a dozen things to choose from, but you’ve had your eye on the apple plushie since you walked into the arcade. You quietly pointed it out to the tired teen manning the counter, shoving the tickets their way.

The teen handed over the plushie with a sigh then slid over the tooth-rotting candy you usually got with your remaining tickets. “Have a good day.”

You shoved the candy into your bag, trying to figure out a way to shove the apple plush into it as well before a voice startled you from your machinations. “Man, looks like I was too late to get it.”

The life was practically sucked out of you, and your head lifted up to look the man in the eye. Brown hair, purple eyes, perfect face—everything you ruminated over when playing the game, but the game did not do him justice at all. He was out here looking like he was carved by Michaelangelo and you were legitimately wearing an old Sailor Moon hoodie.

Caleb smiled down at you, eyebrow raised a bit. “You okay? Looks like you’re a little pale, miss.”

I’m ready to die now, you thought to yourself, God please take me.

You shook your head, clearing your throat with a rough cough. “I’m fine, um.” You offered a crooked smile. “I’m sure they have more plushies in the back.”

He grinned. “Really? That’s good. Was hoping to get one for my… friend.”

Friend? Yeah right. “It’s about three thousand tickets,” you said, pointing down at his wad of tickets. “You could probably get more tickets from the basketball game. You look, uh, athletic.”

“Thanks.” Caleb offered his hand your way, smile bright and blinding. Was he always this… alive pre-explosion? Maybe it was because of it being pre-toring chip or some shit. “I’m Caleb Xia.”

You stared at his open hand, shaking it with your slightly sweaty one. “(Name) (Surname).” This was not how you expected your Friday off to go. “I can, uh, help you get tickets if you want.”

Though in the beginning you had sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t meddle with the rules of fate and all that, this was… slightly different. And it wasn’t like you’d see him post-explosion anyway, since he worked primarily in Skyhaven. Plus, it wasn’t like he’d agree anywa-

“Really?” He looked like his metaphorical tail was wagging, eyes bright. “You would be a lifesaver. These old games are a bit difficult, since they’re like thirty-forty years old and all.”

By the end of this, you were sure you were going to have permanent psychic damage from his consistent use of the word old throughout the ticket farming. Didn’t help that he was kinda a loser at most games besides basketball and ones that he could use his Evol to cheat in.

“You’re really bad at this,” you told him as you watched him fail the Piano Tiles game miserably.

Caleb laughed incredulously. “We just met, and you’re already doggin’ on me? You play it then.”

You then proceeded to school his ass.

By the end of it, and the end of your patience, Caleb had around the amount needed to get the apple plushie. The only downside? Apparently the one you got with your tickets was the last one. 

“I’m sorry, dude,” you said, sighing. “You can have mine if you want.”

He shook his head, flashing a smile. “It’s alright. You earned it fair and square.”

“No, I insist. You can have it.”

“No, I insist that you keep it.”

“No,” you smiled, agitated, “I insist that you should have it.”

“Well,” he grinned at you, smiling like a cheshire cat. “I must insist that you keep it. You won it fair and square.”

Oh, so he was going to give you a brain aneurism with this back and forth game. Well, two could play at that. “No, no, I must insist. I cannot keep it. What about your friend?”

Caleb looked away awkwardly, lips pursed. “She’ll live.” Then he looked back at you, coy grin reappearing on his face. “You should keep it.”

You stared, expression deadpan. You knew he wanted it for Ember/MC, but he could have just gone down the street to the new arcade with all the claw machines. “No, I shouldn’t.”

The coy bastard only tapped his chin. “I beg to differ.”

You scowled, and Caleb’s smile grew like this was some familiar game to him.

“Well,” you started, only for the apple plush to be tucked safely into your arms. “Seriously?”

You let out a groan at how red his face was from trying not to laugh at your agony before holding out the apple plushie with a glower. “Fine. We can co-parent it.”

He stared at you for a moment, utterly baffled. Then he covered his growing grin with his obscenely pretty hand, purple eyes crinkling as he stared at you. “Seriously? Co-parent? Though it might feel like we’ve known each other for years, we just met like two hours ago.”

It was the first for Caleb, but certainly not for you. Good god, thinking about how much screen time you spent giggling over his voice lines instead of doing anything productive was starting to haunt your subconscious. There was also the faint itching at the side of your temple that was like a persistent but what if he did know about you from your gameplay-

You cleared your throat, shooing away your haphazard thoughts and offering one of the apple plush’s fake limbs his way. “C’mon, Caleb, Applecrombie wants to stay in touch or this family will break apart.”

“Seriously?” He snorted, pinching the plush’s foot.

“What, not funny?” You asked, tilting your head his way. “I’m saying I’d like to stay in touch. You’re funny, and you suck at all these games. Immediate win for me.”

Caleb guffawed, smacking the plush’s little feet away (and your scheming hands) from him softly. “I don’t suck. These games are just outdated. And, dude, Applecrombie? What in the hell is that even a reference to?”

You stared blankly. 

He stared back, eyebrow quirked. 

Eventually you swallowed, shoulders drooping as you explained. “You know, like Abercrombie & Fitch. The retail company from years back?”

“No clue what you’re yappin’ about. Are you sure you’re not, like, eighty years old instead of twenty-two?”

Even though you spent the next five minutes beating the crap out of him with your shared “son”, you did somehow manage to score his number. An extra addition to it though? You now had to come to the arcade every two weeks for when he came to Linkon when he wasn’t busy with the Deepspace Aviation Administration.

Usually this kind of quick, easy friendship with a man would have you scratching your head, wondering what the fuckhead wanted, but… you didn’t quite have that feeling at the moment. Caleb was a good guy—which was to be expected considering his origins in your memory were from a literal otome game.

You didn’t quite mind it though. Something just clicked easy with Caleb, something easy like breathing. You had told yourself you would avoid the story as adamantly as you could, but this was just one piece you wanted just to yourself. Some part of you just wanted to bask in it, even though that blinding light of his would be diminished in the months to come.

A couple weeks later, as you clocked into Destiny Café one morning with a droop to your shoulders that could only be described as capitalism exhaustion, your phone buzzed. Caleb’s number, with an unbelievably silly photo of him and the apple plushie you’d lent to him for the next two weeks. It was unreal how easy the two of you texted each other, but neither of you seemed to mind much.

lord freakathon
Caleb Xia | skip the warmup straight to the win.

lord freakathon
applecrombie (horrible name still btw)
says we should get hotpot next
week when we meet at the arcade :D

freaky deaky doo
tell him to wait until
i get my paycheck man 😭🙏
freaky deaky doo
too poor to afford hotpot

lord freakathon
I’ll pay??

freaky deaky doo
omg daa paycheck coming in clutch???
freaky deaky doo
thank u king 🙏

lord freakathon
my generosity knows no bounds

freaky deaky doo
i take it back actually

lord freakathon
</3 wow so mean and for what

You cracked a smile at your phone, tucking it away before letting out an equal sigh with Drew as the sweet-toothed doctor walked in with Ember. As you packed away a hefty order of half of the café’s sweets, you briefly thought of the smell of apple crisp and purple eyes. If Zayne gave you a strange look, like some sort of knowing, you barely noticed it.

Chapter Text

It was starting to occur to you how homesick you were. Texting Caleb had brought it all back, since he texted like some of your best friends texted before you got stuck in this isekai mess. One time he’d told you he watched some old vines on the internet so he could better understand your jokes, and watching him explain the Nickelback “look at this photograph” meme made you want to outright explode—pun not intended.

You had parents here, sure, but they weren’t your parents. They were this version of you’s parents. Same names and surname as before, but different personalities. A mere reminder that you nearly had something for comfort, something that could understand the inner turmoil that plagued your every aching thought, if it was what you actually knew.

Thank every god out there though that you were great at faking it until you made it though. 

“Caramel macchiato coming right up.” Rhea’s cheery customer service voice echoed at the register, covering up your loud sigh from where you sat behind the food display case. “Sorry about the noise, we’re haunted.”

“Haunted? But this establishment-”

“Next!”

Drew shoved a poorly made latte drink your way. “What’s got your balls in a twist, (Name)?”

“I miss my mom,” you replied blandly, snatching the plastic cup from him and guzzling from it like a man dying of thirst.

“Don’t your parents live over in Whitesand Bay? Go visit them.”

You groaned, throwing your head back and accidentally bonking it on the cabinet you were sitting against. “I’m on the clock though.”

“You’re dirtying my floor with your moping. Just go already.”

So you took the bus to Whitesand Bay after clocking out. Were you going to visit your parents though? No. This version of them was some sort of uncanny valley, or like bizarro world. Instead you were here to do one thing and one thing alone: gorge on any street food you could find.

Of course, that would have been the plan if not for your not-mother seeing you gnawing on a shrimp skewer in the middle of Whitesand Bay’s flea market. You don’t remember much after that since you ended up at your apparent “childhood home,” sitting at the dining room table next to your mom and across from your dad and that fucking doctor.

You and Zayne stared at each other. He appeared awkward, sipping on a glass of wine that your mother had given him while you looked at him like he was a foreign object in your very mundane NPC life.

Clearing your throat, fork poised above the steak your father had made, you said, “Um, why is he here…?” 

Your dad just looked at you like you were crazy. “C’mon, you’re really saying that about the man who saved my life?” He brought Zayne into a side-hug, patting his chest with a smile. “It’s the anniversary of my heart transplant, remember? He ought to be here for keeping me alive with my darling girls.”

“Aw, my love,” your mother cooed.

For some reason, all you could do was just stare at Zayne. So starkly you were reminded of that summer a year ago that you spent pre-gaming grief, avoiding home until your mother had called and said the transplant was successful and your father would make a healthy recovery. Just… that all had happened in your world. Not Love and Deepspace’s Linkon.

Maybe some things transferred over. Maybe this world’s NPC version of your life wasn’t as different as yours from before. That homesickness in your heart melted away just slightly, and you coughed away the lump in your throat, nodding Zayne’s way. “Sorry, just… forgot. Been a weird couple months.”

“That’s understandable, (Name).” Zayne said, staring at the carrots on your plate like they personally had wronged him before shaking his head. “I’ve noticed that you’re often overrun whenever I go into your workplace, so it’s only natural that you don’t greet every familiar face.” 

“Speaking of the café,” you couldn’t believe you were even daring to ask this, “is that girl you’re always with your girlfriend?” 

Your father guffawed, hand on his heart like it was something ludicrous. “A girlfriend?”

Zayne immediately shook his head, cheeks flushed like he was embarrassed. “She’s not my girlfriend. We’re…” He caught your curious gaze before looking away like he’d never met you before in his life. “She’s an old childhood friend. We recently reconnected through… a mutual endeavor, so we decided to catch up.”

Mutual endeavor. Who knew Zayne Li was so full of excuses? You were kinda surprised. The guy always seemed like a cold on the outside, warm on the inside type of trope, but apparently that wasn’t the case when it came to your family. That, or your father (resident extrovert) adopted an introvert after he saved his life.

Your father clapped a hand on Zayne’s back, laughing like a maniac in your mother’s direction. “You hear that, my love? Dr. Li is single!” Then he turned to you, waggling his eyebrows much to your disdain. “Our dear (Name) is single too. Isn’t that a cute coincidence…”

To your surprise, Zayne just… laughed. A quick snort, but still a laugh. While you looked at him like he grew three heads, he just turned to your father and shook his head with a faint smile. “I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. (Surname), but I’m too busy for a relationship. The hospital is a lover I’m already too well acquainted with.”

Maybe your dad was poisoning him or some shit. Since when did Zayne act like… this? All jokey and silly. If you weren’t surrounded by your embarrassing parents and Zayne himself, you’d fall to your knees in the middle of the dining room in pure, utter joy.

“Well, you still like sweets right? Our (Name) works somewhere with lots of dessert-”

Just as you were about to open your mouth to correct your father, Zayne interjected. “It’s actually often only once in a while that they do a lot of dessert items.” Then he looked your way, eyebrow raised and hazel eyes gleaming. “But… maybe that will change some time in the future?”

Your throat felt very dry all of a sudden, and you took a small sip of your wine. “I’ll put in a word with my boss.”

Surely enough, that smile of his barely faded throughout the rest of the dinner. In fact it only beamed brighter when your mother ushered you both to the door after cleaning up, the both of you holding matching containers of tiramisu that she’d wrapped up.

“Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mrs. (Surname).”

Your mother pinched his cheek. “No need to thank me, Zayne. It’s my pleasure after all you’ve done for our family.” Then she turned to you, much to your chagrin. “You behave on the drive home now, (Name).”

You scoffed. “‘Behave’? I’m always on my best behavior.” A lie. “Besides, I’m taking the bus home.”

Zayne put a hand on your shoulder, looking at you with furrowed brows. “It’s well past nine. I’ll drive you.”

“Oh, no need-”

Your mother shushed you and proceeded to tell him your address.

Somehow, the car ride wasn’t that agonizing. The two of you made small talk as you drove away from Whitesand Bay’s sandy beaches, surrounded by the utter luxury known as Zayne’s expensive Audi.

You lived in a pretty sketchy apartment complex, so the look on Zayne’s face as he pulled in front of it was warranted. “Do you need me to walk you inside?”

“No,” you replied with a laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so…” He was such a weirdo. A good kind of weirdo, but a weirdo still.

This all was something you never really anticipated happening. You had now come into contact with three of the five love interests, and two of them were now fully integrated into your life. Caleb as your new best friend, and Zayne as the man who saved your father’s life.

You didn’t quite know whether to be grateful, annoyed, or both. 

“Tell you what,” you started, patting his shoulder. “Next time you come into the café, your drink is on me.” Zayne immediately shook his head, opening his mouth to argue with you, but you’d already opened the door and stepped out of the car. “Bye, Doc. Drive home safely.”

As you settled into bed that night with your phone in hand, dreading working tomorrow afternoon, you thought about your whole place in all this. Were you here for a reason? Did some otherworldly being get mad at you for something you did in your prior reality and/or dimension? Or worse, could interacting with these people who were cosmically intertwined with Ember put you on EVER’s hitlist?

Time could only tell, but… maybe it would be best if you distanced yourself more like you did in the beginning.

lord freakathon
Caleb Xia | getting down is easy but pushing up is […]

lord freakathon
can you explain what
tumblr is
lord freakathon
you mentioned it last week
when we hung out but
I’m still confused about
it :(

freaky deaky doo
i am NOT explaining
this to you thank you
and goodnight

You squinted at the brightness of your phone, watching Caleb spam a number of other questions and complaints at your message before shutting it off to charge. Maybe distancing could wait until after the explosion happens.

Chapter Text

At this point in time, you were sure you were cursed. Your morning started normally, with your usual hour doomscrolling before getting ready for work. You didn’t really eat anything besides a string cheese from your nearly empty fridge, thinking that you could get a chocolate croissant from work with no issue.

However, there was very much an issue. Too many issues actually. For one, some asshole spilled his coffee all over your shirt, which meant you had to rush back home and change. Then you realized all your nice work shirts were dirty, so you had to wear a sweatshirt from the back of your closet. Just when you thought you were out of the clear and walking to work with no more issues, bam! Some dumbfuck nearly crashes into you with his stupid looking car.

Well, you were jaywalking, but hey! It was a red light and the guy was on his phone. “Watch where you’re driving, fuckhead!” You screamed at the car, smacking the hood before rushing across the street and into your lovely (you say this lightly) place of work.

Drew waved you into the employee’s only area, shoving you into the back to get your gear on. “Why aren’t you wearing a t-shirt? It’s supposed to be, like, eighty degrees today.”

“Some idiot spilled his coffee on me while I was walking, so I had to change into this because it was all I had that was clean. Then I almost got hit by a stupid fucking car while walking across the street.”

He stared at you, corner of his mouth quirking up like he was trying not to smile. “Were you jaywalking again?”

“Wha- No! Stop chastising me!” You groaned, leaning your head against your work locker. “Where’s Rhea?”

“She doesn’t clock in until one. So, just you and me for a while.” At your annoyed sigh, he waved his hand. “Don’t sound too excited. I’ll be in the front when you’re done.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, eyeing the cracks on the screen protector from when you dropped it this morning. Was this some sort of karma from your unintentional cosmic interference with the plot? Who knew, but one thing was for sure: you do not get paid enough to deal with all this shit. So, what else do you do besides text besides Caleb to complain about your crappy morning?

lord freakathon
Caleb Xia | the elite kitty cards warrior is me

freaky deaky doo
universe has it in for me today bruh
freaky deaky doo
someone spilt coffee on me
and i almost got hit by a car on
my way to work
freaky deaky doo
i’m fine but sooo annoyed

Then you tucked your phone into your locker, putting on your apron and nametag before heading out into the front without a second thought. Luckily enough for you it was slow so far, with you manning the register and Drew on drink duty. It wasn’t even as bad as you thought it was going to be today.

Or, you would say that, if not for the skyscraper that just walked in.

“What the fuck…” you muttered under your breath, squinting up at him from across the room and trying to figure out if you were hallucinating or not. This was too early, both in the morning and in the story, for this to be happening.

Sylus walked into the line awaiting the register, scrolling on his phone. What came worse was probably the purple-haired regular walking through the door after and was now waiting in line right behind him. The moment Rafayel made eye contact with you, there was a seething hint of familiarity lining his features for a reason you could not understand.

So, yes, maybe this was the worst day of your life, but it could also get worse!

Then the doctor walked through the door, and you knew you had spoken too soon. Though, Zayne offering you a nice smile did ease off some of that load.

When the affluent crimelord reached the register, you’d already put on your customer service mask. “Welcome to Destiny Café, what can I get for you today?”

He stared down at you with a keen smile. You weren’t that short, but this guy was massive and built like a goddamn truck. “May I please get a black coffee?”

Could he not have just made that back at his evil mastermind crime mansion? “Uh, sure. Can I get a name for your order?”

“Skye,” he answered neatly, tucking his phone into his pocket with a sigh. “Apologies, but could I also get two of your caramel frappucinos?”

“Of course.”

Sylus pulled out his black card and paid like it was nothing, looking at the tip options for a moment before his red eyes flickered up to you. “Do you take cash tip?”

You nodded, confused. Why was he asking that when he could have just used the tip button on the screen?

He then proceeded to tuck in a hefty number of bills into the tip jar, offering you another piece of thanks and a smirk before sitting at one of the small tables over by the entrance. Sylus may have been a murderer and criminal, but hey, at least he knew how to treat people. Plus, all that he tipped would get split between you, Rhea and Drew at the end of the day, so no complaint about that man would ever leave your mouth again.

Lost 50/50? That’s okay, it didn’t bother you as much anymore. Oh, he killed people? What murder? You didn’t see or hear or unintentionally know about a single thing!

Now, all you could hope for now was that people took that example and behaved kindly for the people who could very well spit in their drinks if given the chance. 

Though it was still very much a surprise to see all of them (minus Caleb and Xavier) in the same place without Ember in the vicinity, it shouldn’t have been that much of a shock. Destiny Café had been around since a little after the Chronorift Catastrophe (something you still needed to write stuff down about) and had been a popular joint for people around the city. Good pastries and some savory items and great coffee when the new hires weren’t on the clock. So, Rafayel Qi in front of you shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

Yet it is nonetheless because what else do you expect from a man like this? Normality? Yeah, maybe if you transmigrated to any other otome game that was some semblance of normal.

You stared up from register, smiling at the man before you tightly. “Welcome to Destiny Café, what can I get for you?”

Some sort of mischief plagued his face. You didn’t like that. Not one bit. In fact, it was probably more unsettling than anything. After his beat of silence and carefully taking you apart with his eyes, he drawled, “Do you people serve fuckheads around here, or am I supposed to leave?”

“…Huh?” You voiced, confused.

“Smacked the hood of my car, called me something so mean, and then has the audacity to pretend not to know a thing? Wowww… you’re something else.”

Holy shit. He was the guy who almost hit you this morning with his car! If you weren’t so utterly irritated by the day you were having already with all these shocks blowing at you one after the other, you would have been appalled at his vulgarity. Rafayel? The Lemurian Sea God? Saying fuck? Man, you should’ve filmed or anyone back home would never believe you.

Well, if you ever did get back home. Wow, your throat felt really tight all of a sudden. Were you really about to cry on company time? Hell, Rafayel had made you cry before when you played the game due to his lore, but he just sounded so… mean. You were already having a shit day, and this was just the icing on the cake.

“I-” You tried talking, voice wobbly and cheeks enflamed. God, this was so mortifying. Your eyes burned. “I’m sorry…?”

Zayne’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight of you from where he stood behind Rafayel, already opening his mouth to speak up on your behalf if it weren’t for your manager creeping up to the register with that scary look he only got when you and Rhea were dicking around and fucked something up.

“Excuse me?” Drew spat from behind you. “Don’t you dare talk to my employees like that.”

“Drew, it’s fine-” You tried stepping in, blinking back tears with a mortified expression. “Drew-”

“Go to the back and take a break.” Drew said, quickly maneuvering you out of the way to give Rafayel a royal tongue lashing. “You fucking idiot, what did you say about my employee? ‘Oh you’re something else!’ I’ll fucking show you something else if you don’t fucking apologize by the time I’m done talking!”

Your phone was buzzing rapidly by the time you entered the break room, rubbing at your eyes with your sweatshirt sleeve. You grabbed it from your locker while simultaneously thinking about how to telepathically transfer all your period cramps and symptoms to Rafayel when you got your period next.

“What the fuck…?”

50+ Messages from lord freakathon
29 Missed Calls from lord freakathon

Oh, your favorite freak. Why the fuck was he blowing up your phone? You quickly pressed on his contact, calling him with a sniffle. Of course, the first thing he did was scream in your ear, “Are you okay? You weren’t answerin’ your phone or your texts, and-”

“I’m fine,” you replied, voice all pathetic. God, you wanted to strangle yourself for getting so overwhelmed and pushed to tears this morning. Caleb went scarily quiet, and you swallowed down another load of tears. “Why’d you call and text so many times, Leb?”

Instead of answering your question, he just asked, “Why’re you crying?”

“A fish was mean to me.” You said with no other context, wiping your nose on your sleeve. “Sorry I didn’t answer any of your calls or messages. I left my phone in my locker for work.”

“No, no- don’t apologize! Sounds like you’re havin’ a rough day.” Then, after you heard him audibly smack his lips like a dweeb, “Tell you what, I’ll even come into Linkon a day or two early. We can go see a movie or get hotpot again at that place you like-”

“What about your friend? The one you come into town to visit too.” The MC: Ember. Less and less were you hearing about her from Caleb’s lips these days. Honestly, it kinda worried you. “Didn’t you say on the phone the other day that she’d been texting you to come to Linkon to hang out with her?”

Caleb groaned, annoyed. “And I will! But I’m a little more worried about you right now, Jet-”

Jet. Something he’d been calling you recently. “Stop playin’ with me, Jet,” “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine, Jet,” or even “Sweet dreams, Jet.” It was just too much and you were interfering too much and you were on the verge of tears again just thinking about it.

“Please don’t worry about me. I’m sure you’ve got bigger fish to fry,” you replied hoarsely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll talk to you later, Caleb. My manager’s yelling at the guy who yelled at me earlier and- fuck. Who am I kidding? It’s too much to explain anyway.”

You could hear Caleb’s breathing through the phone before he snorted. “Call me when you get off work. You’ll be able to explain everything to me then.”

“Caleb-” you started.

“And I’m coming to visit early. No doin’ this ‘oh, don’t worry about me Caleb’ shit.”

“I don’t even sound like that-”

“Lalala, can’t hear you, Jet. I’m already on my way to Linkonnnn.”

“Caleb, I swear-”

“Kshh- Ksshh- You’re breakin’ up, oh no how sad-” And then he hung up on you.

You glared at your phone through the tears in your eyes before grabbing a tissue from a nearby desk. It was best to clean yourself up before Drew turned Rafayel into a burnt fish.

After making sure you looked semi-presentable, you exited the break room. Drew was manning both register and drinks like a champ while Rafayel waited on the side where drinks were usually left for people to pick up. At the sight of your reddened eyes and still slightly red cheeks, he looked like he felt bad.

“Listen, I’m sorry for sounding rude. I was just trying to make some jokes.” Rafayel rubbed the back of his head, sighing before he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Here. My number. You’re now owed a favor by the Rafa-”

You cut him off. “Rafayel Qi. I know.” Then, quieter, “My coworker likes your art.” Rhea also thought he was a tool, but that would stay between the two of you (and, you supposed, Drew).

He sputtered, blue-pink eyes fluttering. “A-And what about you? Do you like my art?”

“Your art shows are kind of expensive.” You said, pocketing the slip of paper he handed you. “But I guess now you owe me, right?”

“I… did almost run you over.”

“I was jaywalking.”

“I was on my phone.”

Ah. So you weren’t in the wrong at all. Well, maybe a little bit still, but it was mostly him. A win for you on this horrible day. Considering he could have killed you though, you were obligated to mess with him a little bit. “How do I know you’re not a creep?”

“A creep? I can assure you I’m no such thing.”

“Mhm…” You hid your smile behind your hand, sliding forward the salted caramel latte that had his name scrawled on the side. “Getting owed a favor by a famous person, huh. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m sorry again.” Rafayel repeated, like some kid getting scolded by his parents.

“You’re forgiven. Now, have a nice day.”

He stared at you, eyebrows furrowed. Something in his gaze was just shy of being almost… sad. “That’s it…?”

With a shrug, you replied, “I’ll call when I’ve made my mind up.”

Then, with a few look-backs in your direction on the way, Rafayel left at the same time one of the new hires, some dumb highschooler named Xian, came in. Drew looked your way, pointing at your work gear with a frown. “Go take that shit off, you’re done for the day.”

“But-”

“I’ll give you tips for half the morning.”

You happily took off your apron and nametag with no other complaint. Though, before you could fully leave the counter, Drew handed you a to-go cup of tea. Then he shooed you off to start yelling at Xian for fucking with the espresso machine. 

You barely managed to make it five feet to the door before you were stopped by Zayne, his small smile enough to blind someone with how absurdly bright it was. “(Name), come sit with me?”

“Oh… well,” you paused, pursing your lips, “I suppose I could.” Though, you did try your hardest not to stare out the window at the man getting picked up by a black car. You knew Sylus was rich, but honestly seeing all the wealth these men flaunted around was kind of baffling.

You were startled from your stupor though by Zayne reaching for your hand, giving it a kind squeeze. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright now.” You stared at him, sending a grateful but small smile. “Thank you for asking. It means a lot.”

Honestly, it did mean a lot. Though you were surrounded by people a vast majority of your every day life, you were so intrinsically isolated that you just… started keeping your feelings to yourself alongside your secrets, keeping them bottled up until one or the other blew. It made you feel slightly more relieved that it was just your emotional lid that blew, and not the bag of worms that contained your slew of secrets. Like, how would you even get away with saying “this is all a game and all of you aren’t real” without being sent to a mental institution?

Shaking that thought from your head, you stared at the drink he held in his hands. “Anyway, what’d you get?”

“Some macarons and a venti vanilla latte with seven espresso shots.”

What the actual fuck. “How are you not, like, dead? Doing cocaine would be easier than that.”

He pursed his lips, adjusting his coat with mirth in his eyes. “I’m afraid medical professionals are strongly advised against doing that.” Then he offered a macaron your way. “Want one?”

Salted caramel, one of your favorites. “Thank you. Good thing you didn’t give me chocolate flavor though.”

“I remembered you didn’t like it. Something about how you prefer chocolate candy to chocolate pastries.” Zayne said, like it was simple.

The person you were before all this would have swooned. You wanted to. God, you wanted to. To be loved meant to be seen and known in your eyes, but at the end of the day, none of this could really be yours. You were a parasite in this whole game, an anomaly that didn’t quite know what to do with itself. If you weren’t so embarrassed about crying today already, you probably would have burst into tears again.

“I never did give you that on the house coffee,” you said quietly, watching the cookie of the macaron crumble beneath your waiting fingertips.

Without pause or deadline, Zayne replied, “I’ll just have to come back next time you work.”

If he heard you sniffle as you lifted your cup to your lips, he didn’t say anything.

Chapter Text

You were dreaming.

The grass beneath your feet, the warmth of steel armor surrounding your body, the familiar weight of a blade in your hand. It was all so recognizable, as if you had lived through it before even when you couldn’t remember this scene for the life of you.

Your legs buckled beneath you, the imprints of your armored knees clashing into the mud. Your hands, silver and covered, drifted to your neck. Blood gushed from a cut there. Some part of you knew this would be the end. These movements weren’t your own, but these hands were yours. This blood was yours, same as this breath, this armor. A life that may have been yours once, a long time ago.

Someone dove forward, pressing hard on the wound. Your vision was hazy, blurring, but some part of you recognized the touch. “No, no-” It was a desperate sound, pleading and begging. “I already lost her, I can’t lose you. Please-”

Something tugged at your soul. “My Evol… isn’t working.” Your lips moved without you even thinking of these words. A mere spectator in your own body. You had to remember that this was a dream, even as tears bubbled past your eyelashes, mixing with the blood pulsing down the curve of your armor. “At least I protected you, though… right?”

His hair was… purple. Long and twisted back into a braid that had long since turned messy. You knew him, and he knew you. “I am a God. I do not- I do not need your protection, (Name).” He was so angry with you, one hand cradling your face and the other doing nothing but fruitless pressure to stop the bleeding. “Just… Just hold on a little longer. I’ll fix this. I can fix this.”

“Rafayel,” you began uselessly.

“Don’t- Don’t go addressing me by my name now. It’s Fish, remember? You- You said that you’d call me by my name when you’ve found a reason to respect me.” You could barely see him smile tightly, eyebrows furrowed together. “I- I still haven’t earned that respect yet, (Name). We can still search for the Aether Core together. I’ll be nicer. I swear. Just… don’t go, please.” He pressed his forehead to the crown of your head, as if his mere touch could make things right. “I can still fix this.”

You felt… light. Looking past him, towards the sun, you felt some sort of melancholy that could only be described as grief. “When… he comes, will you tell him I never stopped looking? I… don’t want His Highness to think I gave up on his queen.”

“You can tell him yourself,” he wept, pearl tears dripping to the ground. He pressed closer like it could help. Like anything could help. “Just don’t go. I need you. You said you’d help me find her. Please.”

No reply came from your lips. The blood no longer flowed, and your armor was sure to rust. Would the light guide you home, like it had before? Or would it leave you here to rot amidst the dirt of another planet that wasn’t your home? Would the blood you’ve shed, the people you’ve slaughtered, ever amount to anything?

The sun faded from your view, and the cries of a God whose heart had been lost, one who had once begrudgingly called you his companion, echoed.

You woke up with a crick in your neck. Though sleep still beckoned you (along with the drool imprint on your pillow), you couldn’t find yourself willing to go back to sleep. Something about your dream, from the little you remembered, unsettled you. Knights, armor, and Rafayel with his pearled tears. It all made no sense, but just thinking about it made your stomach twist. From anguish or distress, you weren’t sure. 

Either way, as you grabbed your phone from the side of your bed exhaustedly, it left your mind rather quick. Caleb was online, and he changed his status to something interesting to say the least.

lord freakathon
Caleb Xia | Linkon I am in you

freaky deaky doo
what is your fucking status???

lord freakathon
don’t be a hater
lord freakathon
also open your door
for I am here

You sat up groggily, staring out your bedroom door towards your apartment’s small living room, listening to his singing calls of your name and his rampant knocking. Yesterday had probably been one of your top five worst days in Linkon (thus far), and while you knew Caleb would be coming a day or two early, you could probably assume that he broke a couple laws trying to get back so quickly.

You tugged on some pajama pants, waddling towards your front door. You’d accidentally slept with your hair braided last night, but you also fell asleep watching old YouTube videos until you passed out, so there wasn’t much you could do besides blame yourself.

“Hey the- oh. Cute pants.” Caleb snarked as you opened your apartment door, pointing at the frogs on your pants. “Frogs. Nothing sexier than that.”

“Take one look at my dumbass and think again about using the word sexy.” You said, smacking his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. “Like, do you see me dating anybody?”

He went slightly still, eyes flickering to you with something dangerous stewing inside them. “Are you?”

“Am I what?”

The corner of his eye twitched. “Dating anybody, I mean.”

He eased when you started laughing your ass off. “Me? Catching a date? Don’t make me laugh, Leb.”

“Are you sure? You’re…”

You stared at him, hair a mess and in pajamas that were three times your size. “I’m what?”

Caleb looked away, the tips of his ears an interesting shade of pink. “Nothing. How about you give me a tour?”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a quick tour. Though, the whole time he was acting a bit weird, staying in your room a little longer than necessary as you got ready in your bathroom. After you walked out fully dressed, you watched him pick up one of your journals flipping to the first page. At first you thought nothing of it, and then you realized which journal it was.

Your secret journal. The one with everything you remembered from the game. Every main story, every myth, even the freaky cards where they were chained up. Though, most of that page was just you writing freaky over and over.

“Hey, question, why does this journal have the title page of ‘Love and Backshots-’”

You snatched the journal from him, mortified. The title had mostly been for a joke, something from before you came here. You’d mainly used it because using Love and Deepspace was something you thought would get you caught too quickly. “Didn’t your granny ever teach you to snoop through someone’s things?”

“Well, she did, but I think I’d rather hear more about this Love and Backshots before you start lecturin’ me.” He grinned down at you, trying to snatch the journal back from your grip. “C’mon, Jet, are you writin’ erotica now? Thought you were a barista, sheesh.”

“If you don’t get out of my room in t-minus three seconds, I’m going to beat you to death with Applecrombie.”

And that’s what led you to where you are now, lounging around at a table of a restaurant’s outside patio while Caleb yapped your ears off. While you liked hearing about the DAA, you couldn’t help but think back to your dream. What did it all mean, and why did you keep looking towards the sun during it? Did dream-you have an Evol? Did the light mean something, or-

“Hellooooo, am I borin’ you here?” Caleb drawled, leaning his head on his arm.

“You are so annoying,” you replied, kicking his shin beneath the table.

“I think I’m great.” Caleb chirped, grinning at you. “Now, what should we do after our food gets he-”

“Caleb?”

You turned your head, choking on air as you spotted Ember and Xavier standing next to each other. Ember looked ecstatic to see Caleb whereas Xavier looked between the two of you with a scarily straight expression. Caleb stared right back, smile tight.

All you really wanted to do now was go back home instead of be witness to their pissing contest over Ember. You probably would have been able to leave pretty quickly and call a cab too if it weren’t for Ember noticing you next, smile growing.

“You’re from the coffee shop!”

“Um, yeah. Destiny Café,” you laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of your head as Caleb and Xavier stared each other down over Ember’s head. “I’m (Name) (Surname).” Play it cool, play it cool, remember how to act around people that don’t know you already know them. “Um… how do you know Caleb?”

“We grew up together.” Ember replied, smiling before sitting down beside you. “How do you know Caleb?”

“We met at an arcade.” The two of you said at the same time.

Ember waggled her eyebrows at you both. “Caleb, you’re back in town a day early and you’ve got a girlfriend? Why didn’t you tell me!”

“She’s not my girlfriend! We met like three months ago!”

Ouch, low blow to your self-esteem, but considering that he was technically in love with Ember as the rest of them were, you really shouldn’t feel very bad. Did you still? Well, yes, but that’s besides the point.

As Ember and Caleb began bickering over visiting and Skyhaven and whatever the fuck, Xavier stared at you. It was that same look he’d given you that day you met, but different somehow. Like he understood you better now that he’d gotten a full look at you. For some odd reason, you thought to your dream. To dream-you talking about His Highness and his queen and the Aether Core.

Was dream-you talking about Xavier? If dream-you was, then it would make some slight sense for you to be traveling with a lone God. A knight without a ruler, and a God without a follower. The sole remnants of loyalty gone astray. Though, it still confused you. It’d felt so real, so true, but you knew Rafayel would never interact with you that way. It was impossible to even think about.

“So she’s single?”

The words startled you from your thoughts, and earned Ember and Caleb’s matching stares. Though, Caleb’s was a lot colder.

Xavier just stared at you from where he was now sitting beside Caleb, blinking those pretty blue eyes at you. Wolf in sheep’s clothing was the only thought running through your head. “What?”

“This is Xavier, by the way.” Ember said.

Somehow, and you were not really quite sure on the how, the four of you make it throughout the day without any issues. You mostly stuck to yourself unless Ember brought you into the conversation, but you weren’t really feeling it. She was a good person, a great one even, but you just felt… very out of place.

Then again, you were a technical NPC, and she was the main character. Hell, she deserved to be the main character. Ember was a glittering star in the sky, kind and charitable and compassionate. In all honesties, you were an outlier. You didn’t quite mind, though. It meant less horrors for you and more for those who could handle them.

Your day ended with the four of you exiting a bar, Ember totally wasted and you a little drunk. Caleb didn’t drink, designated driver and all that, but you couldn’t tell if Xavier was drunk or not. Maybe he was just that much of a weirdo.

“You’re gonna come to the arcade tomorrow, right?” You asked Caleb as he helped Ember into the car. “I heard they got new items.”

Caleb buckled Ember in, glaring at Xavier as he got into the car, before patting your head. “Maybe not tomorrow, but the day after definitely.”

“Awh,” you whined, “why not?”

“Dinner with Gran and Ember.”

Something rang off in your head, but you waved it off. “Have fun.”

He took in your cherry-red cheeks and hair mussed by the wind before sighing with a smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Jet. I will.”

After driving Xavier and Ember back to their apartment complex, and the exchanging of numbers between you, Caleb stopped in front of yours. You had already gotten out of the car by the time the car was put in park, but you stopped in front of his window, eyebrows furrowed.

“You okay?” He asked, staring at you. With a look like that, those purple eyes staring you down, you wondered if he was genuinely concerned. Sure, the two of you were friends, but… it’d only been three months since you met, and it’d only been five since you came to this dreadful place.

You swallowed, palms clammy and the ground feeling uneven beneath your feet. The one day you decide to wear heels and you get a little drunk. “Why do you call me Jet?”

“Because you’re a fighter.”

A scowl lined your lips. “You barely even know me. I barely even know you.” A lie, because you knew him well. His every aching thought for her, his every action to prevent the worst from taking place.

Caleb’s expression fell, and his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “I don’t know, (Name), what do you want me to say? It’s a nickname. It’s… you.” He ran a hand through his hair, laughing incredulously. “I mean, we… I just feel like I’ve known you longer than I have, okay? I just… can’t place it.”

There was a sort of silence between you two that you couldn’t fill. He was just so… confusing. So instead, you just said quietly, “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, Caleb.”

Instead of waiting for a goodbye, you went home.

It didn’t quite hit you until the next day.

You and Rhea had been working the evening together, making small talk amidst the flurry of customers. She mostly talked for you though, considering you probably were radiating that wet cat aura that she said you usually held when you were upset. The TV was playing some news broadcast, and people were quiet compared to the usual chatter.

“We’re here with incoming news from the Bloomshore District. As of thirty minutes ago, Caleb and Josephine Xia were pronounced dead on scene as yet another disastrous explosion…”

Your throat went dry, and it was then that you remembered what you were forgetting. What you could have prevented if you had just told him to stay away from home for a night. But this was how it was supposed to go. In order for Ember’s story to continue as per the game’s plan, the Caleb you knew had to die. There would be no more piecing together the information of cryptic dreams, no more late night texts about old shows and jokes that fell flat for anyone other than you, and no more mingling besides what you had to do for your job.

So, you swallowed the bile rising in your throat, blinked back the tears in your eyes, and got back to work.

Chapter Text

It sunk into you slowly. The efflorescent sting of grief, the knot of shame in your stomach that wouldn’t go away. You slept hectically the night before the funeral, dreaming of a prince of Philos and a lone Lemurian Sea God. In the dreams, it was always the same. You protected, you sacrificed, you died.

When you woke up in a cold sweat, fingers shaking and lungs void of breath from how fast your mind was running, you decided not to go. Maybe it was because you were scared of seeing Ember, or of seeing Zayne (if he was even invited), but either way you just couldn’t bring yourself to be amidst a group of people mourning a man who wasn’t really dead. When days passed, and calling sick into work became harder and harder, you decided you needed to do it at least once.

You spent three hours crying in frustration over your laptop, searching mindlessly for a sort of flower that perfectly represented Caleb. Not the one Ember knew, not the one EVER knew, but the one you knew. You wanted something that symbolised your Caleb. You ended up choosing a bouquet of purple anemones from a flower stand down the street from your apartment.

They were already halfway wilted by the time you stopped in front of the gravestone, feeling the twist and turn of your stomach as you stared at the name. It almost didn’t feel quite real to you, the reality barely sinking in. He was as good as dead, but you knew better. 

“I brought you flowers,” you said softly, placing the bouquet down. “Purple anemones. Read online somewhere that they represented fragility, but I also read that they’re seen as a sign of bad luck and illness…” You swallowed, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I’m now realizing I didn’t choose very well.”

The gravestone said nothing, and you felt stupid for expecting it to say anything at all.

You kicked at the dirt, frustrated. “I wonder if you’ll have security cameras around here in the future, to catch glimpses of Ember.” You wiped your nose on your sleeve, the chill air of the morning seeping into your sweatshirt. “You probably won’t catch me here again. I’ve… well stepped over the boundaries enough. I keep having weird dreams, and I… just can’t deal with a whole criminal, human-experimentation, whatever the fuck force on my shoulders. I work at a café for fuck’s sake.”

It felt better getting all this off your chest. It’s not like he was listening anyway.

“I really want to go home. I like the affordable Linkon rent, I’ll admit that, but… I miss my home.” You tugged your hood over your head, looking down at the fresh dirt above the gravestone. For some odd reason, you wondered if they buried anything other than an empty casket. “I… got to go. Bye, Caleb.”

As you turned on your heel, ready to run off and bawl on the bus, you stumbled into a very tall obstacle.

“(Name)?”

Oh, it was Zayne. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he would come here, since Ember and Caleb were his childhood friends, but as far as you knew, he and Caleb weren’t… on the best of terms throughout their friendship. He was carrying a small bouquet of yellow roses, only two or three bound together. Judging by the exhaustion tapered to his gait and the bags under his eyes, he probably just got back from a shift at the hospital.

“I was just… visiting a friend,” you said slowly, blinking up at him. You were probably worse looking than he was, with your baggy jeans and sweatshirt. 

“Is that Spider-Man on your sweatshirt?”

Hold up, he knew about Spider-Man? You thrifted this at a store, nearly bursting into tears at the sheer joy you felt. Not even Rhea knew about Spider-Man, since apparently Marvel had fallen off after the Chronorift Catastrophe, and she was a major buff for old things. Or, not so old to you, but more-so old to them.

“It is, but… how do you know about Spider-Man? Isn’t it super old now?”

“I like the movies.”

Well, now you were thinking about a Zayne Spider-Man cosplay, but at least you weren’t as sad anymore. You swallowed, wiping the sweat off your palms and onto your pants. “What’re you doing here?”

“Visiting an old friend of mine. He passed recently.” Zayne adjusted his glasses, looking down at you with curiosity in his eyes. “His adopted sister mentioned you at the funeral.”

You were surprised about that, but it wasn't bad. You were mostly just surprised that you'd crossed her mind enough after his death that she mentioned you at his funeral. You could only hope it wasn't in the eulogy. “Caleb and I were friends,” you admitted. “I didn’t feel like I was close enough to him to go to the funeral. We’d only met like… three months before it.” The hair on the back of your neck prickled, and you turned your head around towards the gravestone only to find the anemones you’d left missing. “What the… aw man. The flowers I left are gone.”

“A rabbit probably took them.”

You couldn’t quite shake the feeling that you were being watched. The roof of your mouth felt dry, and you turned back Zayne’s way. “Yeah… a rabbit.”

Somehow you ended up sitting across from Zayne at a nearby restaurant that was probably too expensive for you to afford. Despite the fact that you’d spent five minutes telling him not to worry about you and that you could pay for yourself, he used that very deadpan expression of his and the words “I insist” every time you even tried.

“I can pay for my own meal…” you tried again, only to be shot down immediately.

“How much do you make an hour?”

He had a point there. You glowered, staring down at your posh meal and posh little soda with a swirly straw. You felt like a bit of a child for drinking soda, but then again Zayne ordered what looked to be a luxury milkshake. How he didn’t have cavities was something you would probably never know or understand.

Over the course of your lunch, he explained how he knew Caleb. Spoke of the times in his youth, leaving out some important details as he did. In return, you explained your own history with Caleb, or at least half of it. Then you both started talking about how it was affecting the two of you in your daily lives.

“Ever since he died, I just… feel like I’ve been having worse dreams. They feel so vivid, and seem so lifelike that it makes my head hurt,” you sighed, taking a bite of the pie slice he’d ordered for you.

Zayne’s eyes flickered to you before down to his own plate. It was already cleared, and you could tell from the warmth in his eyes that he’d thoroughly enjoyed it. “I… have dreams like that. Though I would classify them more as nightmares.”

Right. You’d almost forgotten about that. It wasn’t quite your problem, but it still made a frown tinge on your face. The good news was that at least Ember would be there for him. The most you could probably do was give him a thumbs up and tell him to get over it like your uncle used to do when you’d spend summers with at the beach with your whole extended family as a kid.

When the two of you exited the restaurant, the bill paid and your hunger sated, you tried asking Zayne for his number only for him to laugh in your face. “Did you already forget you had it?” He gestured for your phone, opening up your contacts to show the one and only Dr. Zayne amongst them. “I probably won’t reply as fast as Caleb did, but… it’s better to have one friend rather than none.” Then, after a quick pause, “Though, I do understand why you would have forgotten. Messaging your father’s cardiologist is… quite strange, though he seems adamant that it’s not.”

You flushed, briefly recalling how your father had tried to set you two up together at that dinner a while back. “I’m so sorry about him.”

All Zayne did was laugh quietly. It was small, but… uncharacteristically cute. Did he always have a dimple under his right eye? Was it bad that your cheeks felt even warmer just listening to it? Hell, you listened to that one Silent Poem card with a straight face, but a fucking smile is what gets you? “It’s fine. You should see some of my other patients. Old women are… particularly upfront.”

The two of you walked back to his car, footsteps aligned with one another. You were lucky that Zayne was a breath of fresh air compared to all the other people you’d been around. Before he got in, he turned your way. “If you’re ever feeling down about Caleb again, message me. We can go out for lunch together to ease your mood.”

You fiddled with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, the weight of your lungs in your chest sinking heavily onto you. “I can’t guarantee anything, but thank you. It… means a lot.”

Zayne’s eyebrows furrowed together, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. “The last time you isolated yourself away was when your father was in the hospital. Don’t…” He sighed, adjusting the glasses on his face. “Don’t go falling back into old habits now.”

Some things really did just… transfer over. You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, offering a shaky thumbs up. “I won’t.” Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you barely noticed his eyes tracing the movement. “You can call or text me if you need anything too, okay? Don’t want you drowning in your work schedule, Doc.”

He smiled at you, the sight making your face feel hot. "I might take you up on that in the future. I'll see you later, (Name)."

The rational part of you screamed internally. Idiot. You were supposed to be centering away, not offering help. You didn’t want to be involved. You didn’t need to be involved. Yet, here you were, offering your help to a doctor with a smile that scared the wits out of you. Your only thought as he drove off, probably back home for a well deserved nap, was that at least he was the only semi-normal one amidst the five love interests.

Xavier, alien with lots to unpack with that. Sylus, wattpad mafia boss and called MC kitten, which was probably one of your only qualms against him. Rafayel being a tier one rage-baiter. Caleb. Zayne was mostly just a slight freak compared to them. You saw those leaks before all this, that trailer of him and the MC in that pool of water. 

Suddenly you were mad about missing out on pulling for those cards, walking down the street to Destiny Café while you sulked. You were lucky that it was close to the restaurant and that you still had time before your shift started. By the time you got to the entrance, you felt that prickle to your neck again, but when you turned to see who could’ve been staring, you saw no one.

“Weird,” you muttered to yourself, pushing through the door.

Chapter Text

Your father was a very insistent person. Always nagging about this and that, or always poking fun at you for being single and lonely. He was always saying shit like: “When will you get a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Or some other odd nag like: “I’m not going to live forever, you know. I would at least like to walk my beautiful daughter down the aisle.” 

Sometime after your little lunch rendezvous with Zayne, you’d started having weekly family dinners with your parents, both to spend time and sort of get to know this version of them. Whitesand Bay was probably one of your favorite places in Linkon anyway, so it was nice to walk along the beaches after eating your mother’s delicious cooking. Sure, sometimes you’d miss the bus because of it and have to spend the night in your old bedroom still decorated with your absurd obsession with mascot horror games from when you were a kid, but it wasn’t all that bad.

This, however, was bad. A fucking idiot passed out on the beach, practically getting washed over by the tide as it slunk back into the open sea. Your first immediate thought was to rush forward, sandals flailing wildly in your hands as you sprinted over to the man. Your concern dropped rather quickly when you realized it was just Rafayel, looking redder than a tomato as if he was slowly being cooked.

You nudged him with your foot. “Are you dead?”

He startled immediately at the movement, eyes snapping open and Evol lighting up and all you knew afterward was pain.

“You little fucking bitch!” You fell backward, cradling the now burnt sole of your foot. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, teeth biting down on your bottom lip just so you wouldn’t curse the fuck out of him.

Rafayel sat up quickly, wet with seawater and sandy. “I’m so sorry- I thought-” He paused, hands hovering over you. “Wait, no. You should know better than to nudge someone awake like that. If I didn’t recognize you, you’d be barista barbeque.”

You stared at him for a moment, the pain of your foot fading for a half second as you sunk forward, punching him in the nose. “I’m going to hire Etsy witches to fucking curse you! You fucking imbecilic little dipshit!”

“Ah… my nose… I think you broke it…”

“Good!” You screamed, throwing sand at him. 

He dodged, nose wrinkling in your direction. “You weren’t as mean to me the other day.”

“You’re lucky my customer service persona is so well manufactured, you fucking freak!”

Rafayel stuck his tongue out at you playfully, eyes hazy. “Your persona sucks.”

You were so mad with pain and utter annoyance that you almost didn’t notice him fall back onto his side, unconscious. When you felt his forehead, the sheer heat he radiated made your hand jet back. It hit you not a moment after—the whole thing that happened when the tide was super low.

An irritated groan left your lips. Of course this would happen to you.

Ebb Day, to you and numerous fanfiction writers that you’d read stuff from, was supposedly like Lemurians getting heat. Except, you weren’t quite sure what it was in Canon other than the tides rolling back and Lemurians being at their weakest. 

You’d managed to drag Rafayel through the sand over to his looming mansion on the other side of the beach, your foot aching and your patience waning. After dumping him on the sofa, you went searching for some ointment and bandaging for your burnt foot. You began limping back to the imbecile you’d dumped in the living room, your foot nicely bandaged, directly afterward.

You thought of your dream briefly. The one about the Lemurian Sea God version of the Rafayel unconscious in front of you. If you did the math and rearranged the lore, it would have been after his third myth but before his second myth, since Abysswalker took place in the future. If the dream, which could have very well been a past life to the NPC version of you before you took over her body and subconscious, was real, then it would have meant Rafayel traveled to the surface to look for Ember’s reincarnation following her death. Which meant you were dealing with a whole bunch of mumbo-jumbo lore shit.

As you thought about it even more, sitting criss-cross on the floor in front of Rafayel after putting a wet towel on his forehead, was that past knight version of you… from Philos? You’d already thought about that when meeting Xavier with Ember and Caleb again, but… it was all so confusing. Where you stood, and were you were standing now, was deep water with no way out. 

Some part of you wondered if Xavier’s strange behavior, the staring and dissecting and hovering in the few times you’d seen him, was just… is grief materializing. He’d probably left the number slip during your first meeting because he thought it was his knight, not someone else entirely. Little did he know he had a major Ember scenario on his hands, just… more complicated perhaps? You weren’t quite sure as you were still figuring it all out.

You tucked away the reminder to write all your ideas and theories down when you got home, digging your hands into your eyes to rub the sleep from them. Someone, or some thing, wanted you here, and was forcefully spinning you around with string and tying you to the story. If you were lucky and unraveled it slowly, you’d be able to find your way home.

For now though, all you had to do was wait for the damn fish to awaken so you could yell at him for burning your foot. Blisters were already forming and you got sand on the burnt skin, so there was a chance you’d get an infection. Wait, would you have to amputate if it got super bad?

“Fuck this, and fuck you. Fuckin’ little mermaid over here doing whatever the fuck he wants- ugh!” You were so madly annoyed that you grabbed his phone, using his unconscious face to unlock the facial recognition, before texting Ember. All you really sent was come over before creeping around the kitchen to find a notepad and piece of paper.

Dear dickwad, you owe me two favors now.

Then you added your name and number. Maybe if you were lucky he’d send you money through the option in texts, and maybe then you’d be able to buy actual groceries instead of instant ramen in the upcoming week. Well, mostly that was your fault for spending so much at the arcade.

As you slipped on your sandals after siking yourself up to it, your foot burning like a motherfucker, you decided to text the only person you know who would help you in a situation like this.

doctor sexy
Zayne Li | Meeting up is good for your health. I suggest…

(Name) (Surname)
hey question do you know
how to treat burns 😛

doctor sexy
Excuse me?

(Name) (Surname)
so i perhaps had a little incident

doctor sexy
I work tomorrow. Come in at 11.

(Name) (Surname)
thank u!!

You stuck your tongue out at Rafayel, who was still unconscious and probably would later be delirious with fever, before exiting through the front door. You were lucky enough to have managed to half-sprint down the beach as Ember pulled up on her bike.

Your “doctor’s appointment” the next day was mostly just Zayne lecturing you about fire safety and calling in your own doctor to prescribe you antibiotics before sending you out on your way. When you arrived back home, exhausted out of your mind, you just decided to take a quick nap on the couch. You needed rest after the exhausting last couple of days.

Unbeknownst to you, your bedroom window was open. Drawers had been pulled open, your papers and notes scattered on the ground, your desk cabinets pulled open and items spilt out onto your floor like someone had ripped through it in a hurry to look for something, anything.

A flash of light flickered into your bedroom, an exhausted sigh following. “So… you can barely keep your areas clean even now,” he whispered quietly, tidying up your floor the best he could. He’d been in there the prior night, watching over you as you slept, so he remembered how the room looked. The window had been closed, but it appeared that imbecile kept breaking in. “I’ll have to keep better watch.”

After he was done, he quietly walked into the living room where you snored peacefully. You’d always been a deep sleeper. When the two of you were younger, he wondered if you’d be able to sleep through war. That had been a long time ago though, and you were different. Not like Ember, who was always his future, always his Queen. He loved her.

But you. You were always his best friend, his anchor. Always there for him, encouraging him to chase the love in his heart despite the utter anguish that always followed. He thought you would have been waiting like you said you would be. He thought that it was the same old you, but… reincarnation had come for you too. In a way, he didn’t mind much. If he had to get to know you all over again, then he would.

He knelt at your side, glancing at the bandages on your foot. He reached up, fingertips lightly brushing away the messy hair getting in your eyes. It felt so reminiscent of his youth, before Ember, when he was just a boy and you were the one who had sworn to be his trusted knight.

Xavier stood, looking off toward the now-closed window in your bedroom before looking back down at you. “You don’t need to protect me anymore,” he uttered quietly, “I’ll keep you safe. This time, I’ll be better.”

Gravity meant nothing to one who could control light anyway.

Chapter Text

You and Rhea were in search of a fruit vendor, and you both were failing miserably.

The past couple of days had been messy. Xian, the little idiot who was barely even new, got fired for stealing from the tip jar, and the Café’s main fruit vendor didn’t resign the contract. So, that meant Drew, resident manager and nephew of Destiny Café’s owner, was forced to send you and Rhea on your very own quest.

“I’m going to absolutely implode if we don’t find a singular competent vendor.” Rhea groaned, brown skin glistening with sweat as you fanned her with a pamphlet.

“Well, it’s your own fault for picking the farmer’s market when it’s eighty degrees out.”

“(Name),” she whined, leaning on you. “Save me. Let me have some of your lemonade.”

You frowned, holding the lemonade cup close to your chest. “No.”

“Terrible, terrible I say.” She sighed, taking the lemonade out of your hand anyway. “Now, tell me about the dating scene right now. I know that guy you were talking to… uh, died, but what about any other people in the love department?”

You almost forgot you’d told her about Caleb. You were pretty vague with what happened, but you were surprised she came to that conclusion. Well, it wasn’t far off since your Caleb was practically dead anyway. Damn toring chip. “Not really.” You sighed, grabbing the now empty cup and throwing it away in a nearby trashcan. “I think I’d rather be a sugar baby than date anybody at the moment. Shit’s getting more expensive.”

Rhea blew a raspberry your way, draping herself over you like an octopus. “(Name), you spend more money on knickknacks than on your bills.”

You flicked her forehead, scowling. “We’re not talking about this anymore. Remember, focus, we need to find a fruit vendor before Drew and his bitchy aunt fire us both.”

“Right, right.” Rhea withdrew from your shoulders, tapping her chin before beaming. “Divide and conquer?”

“Um, wh-” And she was already gone down the market path. If you weren’t already so anxious all the time due to, well, everything, this would have set you off down another spiral. “Good grief.”

Now you had to look for a fruit vendor by yourself.

After an hour of wandering by yourself and having very unsuccessful talks with numerous vendors, you were ready to tap out. All you were right now was exhausted, sweaty, and frustrated that Drew couldn’t have just googled fruit vendors and found one himself.

Just as you were about to call Rhea and ask where she was, you heard your name being called out.

“(Name)! (Name)!” Rhea came bounding forward, her grip hard and unwavering on a certain someone’s wrist. “I found a fruit vendor!”

You stared at Sylus and swallowed. Sure, you’d seen him the day he came into the café, but this was different and out in the sun. His skin was more-so tan than it was in the game, his lip naturally quirking up into a smirk. Nice cheekbones, and natural but still seductive body proportions unlike in the game where you thought his neck was bigger than his face. Plus, those hands? If he wasn’t already a crime boss, you would have called for him to get arrested for that pretty face.

You’d have to text Rhea privately later about how you were metaphorically bricked up.

“Um, (Name), you’re staring,” Rhea deadpanned.

Oh. You laughed awkwardly, pointing at Sylus with a shaky hand. “Black coffee and two caramel frappucinos.” You remembered the day particularly well. Rafayel making you cry at work, Zayne being a total sweetheart, Caleb blowing up your phone, and… him. “Skye, right?”

“I’m flattered you remembered.” Sylus smirked down at you, eyeing your coworker hesitantly before refocusing back on you. “I’ve been told you’re in need of a fruit vendor. You’re in luck. I’m… open for business.”

Open for ‘business’ or he just wanted another in on Ember’s location? You wondered if he knew about the other men, but judging by the mechanical crow squawking as it flew past, he probably did. 

What a fucking world you lived in. When you first arrived here, you were worried about Wanderers eating you alive or something, but now all you had to worry about was one of your regular customers getting stalked. Though, you were feeling goosebumps more lately. You were even feeling them right now, creeping up the side of your neck. You just hoped it was just your nerves rather than you yourself getting stalked.

Ember could handle a stalker. You, on the other hand, could not.

“Well, Mr. Skye, I’ll give you our boss’s contact information and we’ll start talking business!” Rhea said enthusiastically, slapping the man on the shoulder.

This was going to be worrisome.

Sylus was confirmed to be the new fruit vendor the following week. He and Drew got along swimmingly, which was surprising considering your manager was often mad at everything, but what surprised you more was how Sylus seemed to enjoy talking to… you.

You were a person who rolled from topic to topic, talking with your hands all the while, but he seemed to enjoy listening to it. He sat patiently at the break table when you complained about work when he was in town. He went out of his way to learn about a topic you had mentioned absentmindedly before just so he could prod your mind about it. It was honestly refreshing having someone mesh conversation with you this well. The last person to have done that after you isekai’d to this hellhole was, well, Caleb.

Even Sylus’s sort-of relaxing presence couldn’t calm the edge from your shoulders. Caleb felt every present even now, with Ember’s sporadic visits to the café and the plushie that still sat on the edge of your bed. He was supposed to haunt Ember—not you, never you.

One day as you clocked out of work, readying yourself to cross the street, you noticed something across from you. It felt like your breath had caught in your throat, your heart beating a mile per minute. Tall, wearing a hoodie and cap, but you knew those eyes. Purple with a crescendo of orange, like the sunset setting behind him.

For a moment, all you could do was stare. Those eyes you’d been feeling on you the past weeks since his death—was it all him?

He made eye contact with you, face neutral, and ran. 

You ran after him. How could you not? Your feet, one still aching from Rafayel’s burning Evol, thudded against the ground as you chased after him, dodging around corners. “Caleb, wait-!” 

He was gone the moment you cut around the last corner of the alley he’d led you through. Coincidentally it was right outside your apartment building.

Your throat burned, and your chest felt heavy. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.” You tore your hands through your hair, tears welling up in your eyes as you stood on the sidewalk. You’d come so close, and all you wanted to do was scream and cry. 

He didn’t have to run. You would have understood. You played the game, and you knew how he worked and lived. All you wanted to do was talk and help him. Now it just felt like all your failures were piling up, the grains of sand that were things you could handle slipping through your fingers.

“(Name)?” Xavier’s voice echoed from a couple feet away, and suddenly you were surrounded by the scent of fresh laundry and mint. His hand hovered over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed together as he stared at you. “Are you alright?”

You blinked up at him, tears slipping past the veil of your eyelids, and covered your face with your hands as you began to cry. You begrudgingly showed him the way to your apartment in tears, apologizing for the mess as you unlocked the door and collapsed on your couch. Surprisingly it was clean, though you could have sworn you left dirty dishes in the sink earlier in the morning. Not like you cared much with how hard you were crying.

Your life sucked. All you wanted was to go home, and sleep in your bed—not this shitty apartment with its lumpy mattress and crappy air conditioning.

Xavier crouched down beside the couch, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you bawled. “Do you want me to make you anything?”

“No!” You immediately shot up, gripping his wrist as your mascara ran down your face in smudges with your tears. The one day you decide to go all out with your makeup and it was already ruined.  “We- I can order something. Do not touch anything in my kitchen.” You weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle a burnt down kitchen atop everything else.

After you both decided on a take-out and delivery place, you sat up straight, head propped up on your knees as you hugged them to your chest. He sat down beside you, less focused on the messy area around him and more on you. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

You thought about spilling everything. To tell him about your life before being here, about the weird dreams you’d been having. To lift open the can of worms that was the web of secrets you’d been withholding. But you didn’t because you had no idea what’d do. He probably already grasped that you weren’t the knight he’d known in your dream, and he’d likely kill you on the spot.

“I’m scared,” you said finally, voice almost a whisper. The tears came back full force, bubbling down your cheeks and blurring your vision. “I keep royally fucking everything up. I-” You laughed incredulously, threading your fingers through your hair. “You shouldn’t even be here. You should be out hunting Wanderers or with Ember-”

He sat up scarily straight, cutting you off, “What does Ember have to do with this?”

Everything, yet nothing. This was all on you. “I don’t know-”

“I want to be here with you. We’re…” Xavier paused, looking away from your face for a moment. His shoulders dropped, and he stared back at you. That was a look of grief, of regret—like he had a thousand words to say to you but he couldn’t utter a single one. Then he just smiled tightly, one of his hands carefully detaching yours from your tangled hair. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Barely,” you replied.

He scowled for a moment before it faded into something more gentle. “Well, we can start better now.”

You stared at him, using your sleeve to wipe the snot from your nose. “How?”

Xavier offered his hand your way, smiling gently. “I’m Xavier. Nice to re-meet you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh weakly. “Does Ember know you’re this crazy?”

“I’m good at hiding it.”

Understatement of the fucking year. You sighed, wiping your tears on the back of your hand before sniffling. You’d have to come clean about some of your issues. “I’m…” You groaned, throwing your head back against your couch. “I just think I’m going crazy. I… thought I saw Caleb when I clocked out of work,” you did see him but Xavier just didn’t need to know that, “so I chased him and ended up back where you stumbled across me.”

His eye twitched. “You thought you saw Caleb? Didn’t he blow up?”

Holy fucking shit. He really didn’t hold back any punches.

“Well yeah,” you started nervously, “but… it really looked like him.” That’s because you were ninety percent sure it was him. “It just… threw me for a loop. We ended things on bad terms.”

Xavier’s eye twitched again, expression blank. “‘Ended things,’ huh? So Caleb was lying when we all hung out. You were dating.”

You choked out a laugh, face flushed. “What? No! We were just friends. Where would you even get that idea that we were dating?”

“I don’t know. He did drive you home though. Didn’t need to ask for the address at all. Plus, he paid for your drinks that night-”

“Xavier.” You cut him off, eyebrow raised. “We were just friends. He knew my address because we played games here together.” Another twitch of his eye, which you sighed at. “Plus, he paid for my drinks because he owed me money for buying lunch.”

The blond sitting next to you didn’t seem too convinced, but let it drop anyway. “If you ever have another instance like what happened today again, and need to be walked home from work, call me. You have my number, so start using it.”

“Wow, demanding much?”

“Ember also asked me to check up on you while she was gone, so this is my way of helping her as well.”

You sighed again, leaning your cheek on your knee. “Tell her thanks for me.” Then, quietly, “And thank you, too. I’ve… got too much on my chest lately. Feels like I’m drowning sometimes.”

He stared at you, that grief-stricken look in his eye again before he smiled lightly. “Don’t worry about it, (Name). You would have done the same for me.”

Hours later, long after you’d both devoured the take-out, he passed out on your couch. Too tired and too lazy to wake him up and tell him to leave, you just threw a blanket over him and collapsed onto your bed after cleaning off your makeup.

The next two weeks were slightly weird. Time felt like it was passing too quickly for you, with Sylus now accompanying Ember to Destiny Café and Xavier declaring your apartment as his new napping spot. It felt slightly overwhelming, especially since there was also Zayne still in the picture. With Sylus being… Sylus and Xavier now attaching himself to your side whenever the two of you had free time, Zayne was still the sweetheart he always was.

The problem, however, stood right in front of you right as you left work.

Rafayel smiled tightly down at you, blue-pink eyes glittering in the sunlight. “Hey there, Cutie.”

You let out a confused huh, squinting up at him as the sun blinded you.

He threw an arm over your shoulder, leading you away from Destiny Café all chipper and sweet as if his grip wasn’t tight like iron where it sat on your shoulder. “We need to talk about what you saw four weeks ago. You know, Whitesand Bay. The beach. Me.”

Oh fuck.