My suspicion that this was my subconscious working through the finer points of my fanfic were blown to smithereens over the next couple days.
See, dreams jump around locations and timeframes like bunnies playing hopscotch. Fanfics and video games skip all the boring parts. Such as when you’re picking out new shoes. Or poking at your unfamiliar face in the bathroom mirror for an hour. Or lying awake in your cushy bed all night, fighting the urge to check your non-existent phone for a new fic comment or some dumbass picking a fight with you on Tumblr.
This was life.
Some funhouse version of it, where I was a petite student with black waves, yellow eyes, magic powers, and mysterious murder in her past.
Where the richest boys in Eavredor loved me.
Where my favourite tempestuous, bonkers gal in all of gaming…hated me.
Hopefully I’d fallen into one of my own fanfics.
The night before my first day at the university where Love Blooming took place, I tossed in bed, probably making a total hellscape for myself and my poor abused hairbrush in the morning (one of the maids had to teach me how to brush waist-length hair). I’d been free from dialogue trees so far since none of these days happened in the game, but the programming would be back in action tomorrow.
If the game went as it was supposed to, I’d make it out of here with a cute husband and an estate. I guess it could be worse?
Aw, hell. It could be worse. It’d be worse for Antoinette.
If things went well for me, she was screwed–falling for her family’s crimes, reputation wrecked, banished to rot in a cartoonishly dank cell on a deserted island. How many posts had I written on Tumblr about that stupid ending? From long essays about the game needlessly upholding this bad girl/good girl dichotomy to the point that it was desperate to treat Antoinette like a murderous Maleficent, to snarky text posts about how the legal system in Eavredor was total crap.
I could see my own essay now.
Are you really telling me that there was NO point in the writing process where the devs thought to add in a mission where you can protect Antoinette? Like, hello, redemption arc??? You're besties with four SUPER RICH GUYS. Three of them have close ties with THE KING AND QUEEN.
They could save her without breaking a sweat!!!
I decided right then, like it was the only rope offered to me at the bottom of a deep, dark well, to do what I’d technically been doing for almost a year since I’d entered the Love Blooming fandom.
I was gonna save Antoinette.
And I was pretty sure I needed the love interests to do it.
~*~
The Academy La Belle Lavande wasn’t half so beautiful on the tiny DS screen.
And the golden text that told me the entire student body was staring at me sure didn’t hold an ounce of the pressure of actually being stared at.
Poor, daft Étienne was making it a thousand times worse! He’d brought two butlers to carry my new dorm furniture, school supplies, and clothes (all donated by the prince himself). He strolled alongside this anonymous new girl, waving awkwardly at the students and confidently greeting professors with questions about their weekend and compliments on their new academic publications.
I could practically hear what everyone was thinking: Who is that plain girl with our prince?
(Plain in anime standards. Marie was kind of a smokeshow, let’s be real.)
Love Blooming set itself apart from other otome games by being about people in their early twenties–just like me in real life. The Academy was a prestigious magical university, lit by dancing chandeliers and glittering with gold and bronze, and everyone wore smart black and red uniforms that probably cost more than a semester of textbooks in the real world. Regardless, this feeling of being scrutinized by peers shot me right back to being the weird girl in school, shuffling into my classes late and sliding into my seat with no one to talk to.
Étienne said, “I’m drawing a lot of attention. I…tend to do that. If you prefer, I can grab an RA to guide you around.”
Ping!
Either way! I’m grateful for your company, but I bet you’ve got better things to do! Please, stay by my side a little longer. Clear out. I don’t want people thinking I’m Prince’s Pet.
Over my couple days in Eavredor, Étienne was there almost every step of the way. He was my only sure thing in a world of confusion. For a character whose dialogue I mainly skimmed, he was quickly becoming my favourite.
2.
“Please, stay by my side,” I said in sugar!Marie’s darling tones.
(Okay, girl, whoa! Grabbing his arm was kind of over the line!)
I was so distracted by how the dialogue choices could puppeteer me, that we were almost at my assigned dorm when I realised what was coming.
My hands clenched into fists at the sides of my uniform skirt. Étienne gave me a comforting smile and lightly knocked on the door.
It swung open. And there was Antoinette, in all her gorgeous glory, seeming far too lavish and grand for that undecorated little doorway. Her eyes entrapped me first–that glowing sea-green was as glimmering and sharp as glass. Her silky, thigh-length cherry-red waves were a mesmerizing feat of detailed art on the DS screen, but in real life, she seriously looked like a goddess. Outside the constraints of Love Blooming’s anime art style, she had a strong Roman nose, full lips set in a delicious scowl, and–yep, her curvy frame was exactly as perfect as always, that touch of realism making her even more beautiful.
This was what I’d been waiting for. I wasn’t so sure I was asleep anymore (or in one hell of a medicated coma), but I couldn’t help it.
I threw my arms around her.
It was like meeting a friend you’d only known online. No, better–like finally seeing someone who you hadn’t seen in years, who you understood every fibre of, whose shape and scent you’d almost forgotten after so long apart.
Honestly, I probably knew her better than she knew herself. I knew every one of her lines in the game. I knew the fandom’s agreed-upon backstory for her, and the soooo much better backstory made up by stacistar. I knew how she’d act in a modern AU (Instagram influencer and heiress), a Harry Potter AU (Slytherin, duh), a Pokemon AU (poison-type gym leader), a coffee shop AU (extra shot, extra foam, almond milk!).
So I should’ve guessed that she’d shove me away.
Her electrifying blue eyes zapped onto mine. My knees practically gave out. Struck dumb by her beauty or her terrifying aura? Who knows.
Étienne led me back a step and said with a nervous chuckle, “Miss Delphine, let me…introduce you to Chloé.”
“Chloé what? What family?” Antoinette looked me up and down, brushing invisible dirt off her uniform sleeves. I shivered. “I can’t imagine it’s anyone of note, if she thinks it’s all right to treat the Delphine heiress like this.”
By now, Étienne knew I’d lost all my memories, including my family name. “We’ll find out soon enough, I expect, especially once she can relax in the comforts of the Academy. Would you excuse us?” Étienne gestured over his butlers and their towers of boxes.
The game played this for comedy. In reality, it made me look like a spoiled brat.
Antoinette snapped, “This is my dorm. I made it clear to the headmaster that I cannot have a roommate.”
Ping!
Antoinette froze, her glower totally not even weakened by her paralysis. I deliriously wondered if I could reach forward and touch her again; dialogue options popped up between us before I could be dumb enough to try.
Don’t worry! I’m a great roommate. The prince can tell you all about it. I’m sorry. This is the room I was assigned… Aren’t you a peach? This is my room, too. Take it up with your beloved headmaster.
I really didn’t want to go for option 2 again. Shy sugar!Marie couldn’t navigate this world, and I had no idea if the game’s control was so complete that it would eventually take away my free will and iron me into a line of obedient code.
I grit my teeth and selected 1.
Antoinette snarled. Marie actually made me wink.
Étienne said, all innocent smiles, “She spent the last couple nights at the palace while we got her enrolled. You’ll recall a certain accident with a carriage…”
“I apologized,” Antoinette said.
“Not to her. It was very serious. She lost her memory.”
Argh, Étienne! Isn’t that private?
“In that case, I don’t think an apology would be worth much, would it?” Antoinette fixed him with a sour smile, beautifully cutting on her lovely face.
The butlers were getting overbalanced with all the boxes and my palms were sweating around my brand-new class briefcase.
“Sorry,” I interjected, aware of how passing students were staring, “can we put my things in the room–”
“No. My father was promised that I would have a private loft.”
In the game, Antoinette popped out of nowhere to cause chaos, to scheme, to feed Marie lies about the love interests, and steal them away if you didn’t get the right amount of approval points by the checkpoints. You could never seek out Antoinette yourself.
How could I help her if she locked herself away?
I squeezed ahead of Étienne. Antoinette’s behaviour here would put a serious dent in her and Étienne’s relationship. Even the patient prince couldn’t deal with such open rudeness. “Can I place my things in the dorm in the meantime and we can sort this out with your father and the headmaster later?”
Antoinette snatched back the shovel I’d taken from her hands and kept shoveling.
“As if I’ll let you throw all your disgusting things about. What a hassle. How can the crown prince attend an Academy that also lets in the likes of her?”
“She’s quite talented at magic,” Étienne said. “The Headmaster allowed her entry, even a month late in to the school year, because of her immense power–”
And no control over it, don’t forget that, Étienne!
“I don’t care—“
“Excuse me?” A new voice joined us. “Something wrong, Antoinette?”
We all turned. Trotting up the hallway’s green carpet was a young man—who looked like a teenager, really—with a mop of red hair, a faceful of freckles, and a clipboard clutched in his arms. As soon as he saw Étienne, he skidded to a stop and dropped into a low bow, his bangs flopping over his face.
Antoinette said through her teeth, “Louis. Check your papers. Surely, this girl was not assigned to my room?”
Louis Chapelle, the sweet little brother-type love interest. Currently roped into being an RA thanks to his responsible older sisters. He seemed nowhere near prepared to deal with Antoinette's temper.
He did as Antoinette asked, rifling through the clipboard papers in a flurry. He bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh…Yes. Chloé Alarie is here with you, Antoinette.”
Um, they gave me the royal name? What was I, a charity case adoption?
Antoinette snatched the pen hanging around Louis’s neck and wrote a jolting note on the clipboard, tugging him closer with every flourish. I read over her arm: Please revise rooming for Loft A-12. Immediate action is required.
She punctuated her “There” by thrusting the clipboard back into his chest.
Louis frowned at the note. “Sure, I can pass this on, but Miss Chloé needs to put her things somewhere in the meantime?”
I said quickly, “I won’t unpack a single box!”
Antoinette scowled at us all. Nasty as she was being, all I could see was a spoiled brat who was simply used to having her privacy—needing her privacy, actually, though the game never bothered to delve into why.
Still, as she stepped away from the door and pointed a long, lacquered fingernail at the empty bed, I felt uncannily like she’d won anyways.
Of course she did. As far as base-game Antoinette figured, she was gonna make Marie’s life into a living hell.
Little did she know, I was gonna matchmake her to a better end, even if I had to drag her kicking and screaming to do it.
My suspicion that this was my subconscious working through the finer points of my fanfic were blown to smithereens over the next couple days.
See, dreams jump around locations and timeframes like bunnies playing hopscotch. Fanfics and video games skip all the boring parts. Such as when you’re picking out new shoes. Or poking at your unfamiliar face in the bathroom mirror for an hour. Or lying awake in your cushy bed all night, fighting the urge to check your non-existent phone for a new fic comment or some dumbass picking a fight with you on Tumblr.
This was life.
Some funhouse version of it, where I was a petite student with black waves, yellow eyes, magic powers, and mysterious murder in her past.
Where the richest boys in Eavredor loved me.
Where my favourite tempestuous, bonkers gal in all of gaming…hated me.
Hopefully I’d fallen into one of my own fanfics.
The night before my first day at the university where Love Blooming took place, I tossed in bed, probably making a total hellscape for myself and my poor abused hairbrush in the morning (one of the maids had to teach me how to brush waist-length hair). I’d been free from dialogue trees so far since none of these days happened in the game, but the programming would be back in action tomorrow.
If the game went as it was supposed to, I’d make it out of here with a cute husband and an estate. I guess it could be worse?
Aw, hell. It could be worse. It’d be worse for Antoinette.
If things went well for me, she was screwed–falling for her family’s crimes, reputation wrecked, banished to rot in a cartoonishly dank cell on a deserted island. How many posts had I written on Tumblr about that stupid ending? From long essays about the game needlessly upholding this bad girl/good girl dichotomy to the point that it was desperate to treat Antoinette like a murderous Maleficent, to snarky text posts about how the legal system in Eavredor was total crap.
I could see my own essay now.
Are you really telling me that there was NO point in the writing process where the devs thought to add in a mission where you can protect Antoinette? Like, hello, redemption arc??? You're besties with four SUPER RICH GUYS. Three of them have close ties with THE KING AND QUEEN.
They could save her without breaking a sweat!!!
I decided right then, like it was the only rope offered to me at the bottom of a deep, dark well, to do what I’d technically been doing for almost a year since I’d entered the Love Blooming fandom.
I was gonna save Antoinette.
And I was pretty sure I needed the love interests to do it.
~*~
The Academy La Belle Lavande wasn’t half so beautiful on the tiny DS screen.
And the golden text that told me the entire student body was staring at me sure didn’t hold an ounce of the pressure of actually being stared at.
Poor, daft Étienne was making it a thousand times worse! He’d brought two butlers to carry my new dorm furniture, school supplies, and clothes (all donated by the prince himself). He strolled alongside this anonymous new girl, waving awkwardly at the students and confidently greeting professors with questions about their weekend and compliments on their new academic publications.
I could practically hear what everyone was thinking: Who is that plain girl with our prince?
(Plain in anime standards. Marie was kind of a smokeshow, let’s be real.)
Love Blooming set itself apart from other otome games by being about people in their early twenties–just like me in real life. The Academy was a prestigious magical university, lit by dancing chandeliers and glittering with gold and bronze, and everyone wore smart black and red uniforms that probably cost more than a semester of textbooks in the real world. Regardless, this feeling of being scrutinized by peers shot me right back to being the weird girl in school, shuffling into my classes late and sliding into my seat with no one to talk to.
Étienne said, “I’m drawing a lot of attention. I…tend to do that. If you prefer, I can grab an RA to guide you around.”
Ping!
Either way! I’m grateful for your company, but I bet you’ve got better things to do! Please, stay by my side a little longer. Clear out. I don’t want people thinking I’m Prince’s Pet.
Over my couple days in Eavredor, Étienne was there almost every step of the way. He was my only sure thing in a world of confusion. For a character whose dialogue I mainly skimmed, he was quickly becoming my favourite.
2.
“Please, stay by my side,” I said in sugar!Marie’s darling tones.
(Okay, girl, whoa! Grabbing his arm was kind of over the line!)
I was so distracted by how the dialogue choices could puppeteer me, that we were almost at my assigned dorm when I realised what was coming.
My hands clenched into fists at the sides of my uniform skirt. Étienne gave me a comforting smile and lightly knocked on the door.
It swung open. And there was Antoinette, in all her gorgeous glory, seeming far too lavish and grand for that undecorated little doorway. Her eyes entrapped me first–that glowing sea-green was as glimmering and sharp as glass. Her silky, thigh-length cherry-red waves were a mesmerizing feat of detailed art on the DS screen, but in real life, she seriously looked like a goddess. Outside the constraints of Love Blooming’s anime art style, she had a strong Roman nose, full lips set in a delicious scowl, and–yep, her curvy frame was exactly as perfect as always, that touch of realism making her even more beautiful.
This was what I’d been waiting for. I wasn’t so sure I was asleep anymore (or in one hell of a medicated coma), but I couldn’t help it.
I threw my arms around her.
It was like meeting a friend you’d only known online. No, better–like finally seeing someone who you hadn’t seen in years, who you understood every fibre of, whose shape and scent you’d almost forgotten after so long apart.
Honestly, I probably knew her better than she knew herself. I knew every one of her lines in the game. I knew the fandom’s agreed-upon backstory for her, and the soooo much better backstory made up by stacistar. I knew how she’d act in a modern AU (Instagram influencer and heiress), a Harry Potter AU (Slytherin, duh), a Pokemon AU (poison-type gym leader), a coffee shop AU (extra shot, extra foam, almond milk!).
So I should’ve guessed that she’d shove me away.
Her electrifying blue eyes zapped onto mine. My knees practically gave out. Struck dumb by her beauty or her terrifying aura? Who knows.
Étienne led me back a step and said with a nervous chuckle, “Miss Delphine, let me…introduce you to Chloé.”
“Chloé what? What family?” Antoinette looked me up and down, brushing invisible dirt off her uniform sleeves. I shivered. “I can’t imagine it’s anyone of note, if she thinks it’s all right to treat the Delphine heiress like this.”
By now, Étienne knew I’d lost all my memories, including my family name. “We’ll find out soon enough, I expect, especially once she can relax in the comforts of the Academy. Would you excuse us?” Étienne gestured over his butlers and their towers of boxes.
The game played this for comedy. In reality, it made me look like a spoiled brat.
Antoinette snapped, “This is my dorm. I made it clear to the headmaster that I cannot have a roommate.”
Ping!
Antoinette froze, her glower totally not even weakened by her paralysis. I deliriously wondered if I could reach forward and touch her again; dialogue options popped up between us before I could be dumb enough to try.
Don’t worry! I’m a great roommate. The prince can tell you all about it. I’m sorry. This is the room I was assigned… Aren’t you a peach? This is my room, too. Take it up with your beloved headmaster.
I really didn’t want to go for option 2 again. Shy sugar!Marie couldn’t navigate this world, and I had no idea if the game’s control was so complete that it would eventually take away my free will and iron me into a line of obedient code.
I grit my teeth and selected 1.
Antoinette snarled. Marie actually made me wink.
Étienne said, all innocent smiles, “She spent the last couple nights at the palace while we got her enrolled. You’ll recall a certain accident with a carriage…”
“I apologized,” Antoinette said.
“Not to her. It was very serious. She lost her memory.”
Argh, Étienne! Isn’t that private?
“In that case, I don’t think an apology would be worth much, would it?” Antoinette fixed him with a sour smile, beautifully cutting on her lovely face.
The butlers were getting overbalanced with all the boxes and my palms were sweating around my brand-new class briefcase.
“Sorry,” I interjected, aware of how passing students were staring, “can we put my things in the room–”
“No. My father was promised that I would have a private loft.”
In the game, Antoinette popped out of nowhere to cause chaos, to scheme, to feed Marie lies about the love interests, and steal them away if you didn’t get the right amount of approval points by the checkpoints. You could never seek out Antoinette yourself.
How could I help her if she locked herself away?
I squeezed ahead of Étienne. Antoinette’s behaviour here would put a serious dent in her and Étienne’s relationship. Even the patient prince couldn’t deal with such open rudeness. “Can I place my things in the dorm in the meantime and we can sort this out with your father and the headmaster later?”
Antoinette snatched back the shovel I’d taken from her hands and kept shoveling.
“As if I’ll let you throw all your disgusting things about. What a hassle. How can the crown prince attend an Academy that also lets in the likes of her?”
“She’s quite talented at magic,” Étienne said. “The Headmaster allowed her entry, even a month late in to the school year, because of her immense power–”
And no control over it, don’t forget that, Étienne!
“I don’t care—“
“Excuse me?” A new voice joined us. “Something wrong, Antoinette?”
We all turned. Trotting up the hallway’s green carpet was a young man—who looked like a teenager, really—with a mop of red hair, a faceful of freckles, and a clipboard clutched in his arms. As soon as he saw Étienne, he skidded to a stop and dropped into a low bow, his bangs flopping over his face.
Antoinette said through her teeth, “Louis. Check your papers. Surely, this girl was not assigned to my room?”
Louis Chapelle, the sweet little brother-type love interest. Currently roped into being an RA thanks to his responsible older sisters. He seemed nowhere near prepared to deal with Antoinette's temper.
He did as Antoinette asked, rifling through the clipboard papers in a flurry. He bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh…Yes. Chloé Alarie is here with you, Antoinette.”
Um, they gave me the royal name? What was I, a charity case adoption?
Antoinette snatched the pen hanging around Louis’s neck and wrote a jolting note on the clipboard, tugging him closer with every flourish. I read over her arm: Please revise rooming for Loft A-12. Immediate action is required.
She punctuated her “There” by thrusting the clipboard back into his chest.
Louis frowned at the note. “Sure, I can pass this on, but Miss Chloé needs to put her things somewhere in the meantime?”
I said quickly, “I won’t unpack a single box!”
Antoinette scowled at us all. Nasty as she was being, all I could see was a spoiled brat who was simply used to having her privacy—needing her privacy, actually, though the game never bothered to delve into why.
Still, as she stepped away from the door and pointed a long, lacquered fingernail at the empty bed, I felt uncannily like she’d won anyways.
Of course she did. As far as base-game Antoinette figured, she was gonna make Marie’s life into a living hell.
Little did she know, I was gonna matchmake her to a better end, even if I had to drag her kicking and screaming to do it.
