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[badchoosey]

Veil of Secrets, Chapter One: Missing Persons

You sit in a cold metal chair in a police interrogation room, watching the minutes tick by on the clock. 

Jean: (How much longer are they going to keep me here?)

As if answering your question, the door at the end of the room swings open, and a man in a sharp suit enters, flashing an FBI badge. 

Agent Michael Kim: Special Agent Michael Kim, FBI. And you are… Jean?

Jean: That’s right.

Agent Michael Kim: Well, Jean. I’m hoping you can answer some questions. 

He sits down, flipping open a heavy folder full of photos…

Agent Michael Kim: See, I’m just trying to make sense of what happened in this town. Looking at this report here, I’ve got a kidnapping, multiple break-ins, an arson, and at least four homicides… And you think you know who was behind it all.

Jean: What can I say? It’s been a wild month. 

Agent Michael Kim: Can you tell me what happened here? From the beginning?

Jean: Well… It all started with a wedding…

Letter:

You are cordially invited to the wedding of Katherine O’Malley and Tanner Charles Sterling, to be held at Sterling Manor in Birchport, Massachussetts.

Your taxi pulls up outside the imposing family estate in the village of Birchport, Massachussetts. 

Jean: Wow…

The doors swing open, and a handsome stranger walks out, smiling at you. 

???: Welcome to Sterling Manor! You’re here for the rehearsal dinner, I assume?

Jean: I’m Jean. A friend of Kate’s. Uh, Katherine’s. 

???: You can relax. She’s Kate to me too. Looks like you’ve never been here before. I’m Grant Emerson. I’d be happy to show you the way.

Jean: Shouldn’t I find Kate first?

Grant Emerson: Yeah… about that. Maybe not the best time. Mrs. Sterling is trying to rearrange all the seating charts again, and Kate’s not thrilled…

Jean: Oh! Trouble in paradise?

Grant Emerson: Just your typical wedding-planning drama, I’m sure. 

Grant leads you through the doors into an elegant foyer. 

Grant Emerson: So how do you know Kate?

Jean: We were best friends in college, but we kind of lost touch since. I was honestly surprised to get the invitation. 

Grant Emerson: She’s told me some stories about her college days. It sounded like the two of you were a force of nature back then. 

Jean: You could say that. Let me guess. You’re one of Kate’s exes. 

Grant Emerson: What? Me, date Kate?

Jean: Why do you sound so surprised?

Grant Emerson: She and I are just friends, that’s all. I’m here for Tanner, the groom. 

Jean: Are you two friends?

Grant Emerson: In a sense. Our families have… a long history. Both with Birchport, and with each other. Our families have been rivals for years. But Tanner and I are friendly. 

Jean: So do you live in a mansion too?

Grant Emerson: Define ‘mansion.’

Jean: If you need me to define mansion, you live in a mansion. 

Grant Emerson: Touche. 

You pass a massive spiral staircase and a door leading to a gallery of expensive art. You can help but gawk. 

Jean: Man. Kate always joked about marrying a rich guy, but I didn’t think she’d follow through. Especially not on this scale.

Grant Emerson: Believe me, you’re not the only one surprised. The town’s been buzzing for months. Let’s just say it’s not everyday the heir to the town’s richest family gets engaged to a dockworker’s daughter. 

Jean: Way to go, Kate. 

Grant Emerson: What about you? Anyone significant in your life?

Jean: Does my editor count? We spends nights and weekends together, she calls me all the time just to check in… on my deadlines. 

Grant Emerson: So you’re in publishing?

Jean: A journalist.

Grant Emerson: I’ve seen this movie. The hard-working journalist pounding coffee at her desk, no time for a personal life…

Jean: I am pretty focused on my career. 

Grant Emerson: I’m actually glad you said that. I’m the same way. It’s nice to meet someone else dedicated to burning the candle at both ends. 

Jean: Sleep when you’re dead, right?

Grant Emerson: Always been my motto. And now I’m gonna have even less time for that sleep nonsense, what with the new challenge you set me. 

Jean: Oh? What’s that?

Grant Emerson: The one where I find a way to distract you from your work. 

Jean: What about you, Grant? What do you do?

Grant Emerson: I’m a lawyer. Following in my father’s footsteps. 

Jean: Really? Let me guess, some kind of fancy corporate law?

Grant Emerson: Criminal defense, actually. 

Jean: So if I wake up tomorrow in the drunk tank after going full whirling dervish on Birchport’s streets…

Grant Emerson: I’m the guy to call. Listen, I’d love to have you all to myself for the rest of the afternoon, but we should probably join the party. 

Jean: Lead the way…

Grant escorts you to a dining hall full of wealthy East Coast socialites. As you enter, a young woman with a beaming smile rushes over and throws her arms around you. 

Kate O’Malley: Jean! You’re here! You have no idea how much I’ve missed you!

Jean: It’s been so long.

Kate O’Malley: Ohmygod, ages! Like, way too long! We’ll have to make up for lost time this weekend. 

Jean: Won’t you be busy with, you know… getting married?

Kate O’Malley: Are you kidding? Tanner’s mother is a total control freak. But the upside is that she’s taking care of everything! Please, say you’ll help me make the most of my last day as a single lady?

Jean: I’ll give it my best shot. 

Kate O’Malley: Can you believe I’m getting married?

Jean: I honestly can’t believe it’s taken this long for someone to try to lock it down. 

Kate O’Malley: Who said no one else tried?

Jean: Well then, it must have taken a lot for this guy to succeed. 

Kate O’Malley: You could say that…

Kate shows you her engagement ring.. and its enormous diamond. 

Jean: Holy rock, Kate! Doesn’t that thing make your arm tired?

Kate O’Malley: That’s just an added bonus… Crossfit arms without even hitting the gym!

A handsome sharply-dressed man approaches. His bearing is aristocratic, and a little distant. 

Kate O’Malley: Oh, perfect, here’s my fiance, Tanner Sterling. Tanner, this is Jean. We were inseparable at Hartfeld!

Tanner Sterling: So lovely to meet you, Jean. Kate speaks well of you… and often. 

Jean: Thanks, Tanner. Kate, you didn’t tell me Tanner was so hot!

Kate O’Malley: I like to let his hotness speak for itself. 

Tanner Sterling: I, err… That is, thank you for the compliment, Jean. 

Kate O’Malley: I told you in college, anyone I married would have to be super-hot, look great in a tux, and play guitar. 

Tanner Sterling: … I don’t play guitar. 

Kate O’Malley: Always time to learn, babe. Always time to learn. 

An exceptionally well-dressed young woman squints at the three of you, assessing, then stalks over. 

Scarlett Emerson: Don’t Kate and Tanner make such a cute couple? At least now she’s dressing on the Sterling family’s dime….

Tanner Sterling: Scarlett…

Scarlett Emerson: I’m kidding, obviously! Kate knows how much I love her.

Kate O’Malley: Totally.

The woman glances your way.

Scarlett Emerson: Sorry, but if we’ve met, I’ve totally forgotten you.

Kate O’Malley: Scarlett, this is Jean, my best friend from college. Jean, meet Scarlett Emerson, my… maid of honor. 

Scarlett Emerson: Oh, of course, I should have known you were Kate’s college friend. You both have that same spit-shined blue collar thing going on. Such an adorable look, I’m almost jealous of how well you pull it off. You’re the journalist, right?

Jean: That’s me. 

Scarlett Emerson: I saw you talking with my brother before. Just a tip from a friend, flirt all you want, but don’t get your hopes up. Quaint’s not really his thing. 

Jean: Excuse me?

Scarlett Emerson: I mean, I know marrying down is the trend in Birchport these days, but I just don’t think that’s Grant’s style, you know? I’m sure he’s slummed it for fun, but he cares way too much about the family name to make that kind of mistake permanent!

Jean: Maybe I should show your face exactly how us girls from the slums do things. 

Scarlett Emerson: Huh. I would’ve thought you’d need at least two drinks before you started threatening assault. Aren’t people from your background supposed to be able to handle their liquor?

Kate O’Malley: Scarlett, I agreed to have you as my maid of honor because you promised to be nice. 

Scarlett Emerson: I am being nice. Jean’s still standing, isn’t she?

Jean: Give me a few more minutes and you won’t be. 

Tanner Sterling: Ahem. Could we not do this?

Jean: Right. Sorry. I just… she…

Scarlett Emerson: I think I’ve proven my point. Ta-ta!

Scarlett flutters off.

Jean: Sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to make a scene. 

Kate O’Malley: It’s not your fault. Scarlett’s just… like that. 

Jean: If you don’t mind me asking… why is she your maid of honor? You don’t even seem to get along…

Kate O’Malley: It’s complicated…

Tanner Sterling: The social circles of Birchport often are. Now come, darling. Mother wanted to talk to you about flower arrangements…

Jean: Find me when you’re free, Kate?

Kate O’Malley: Yes! God, yes. 

Kate hugs you and leaves with Tanner. You stand there, shaking your head…

Jean: (Kate O’Malley… what have you gotten yourself into?)

Guests start to move to their seats in the dining room. Feeling out of place, you slink to the back of the hall and find an empty seat next to a ruggedly handsome man. 

Jean: Is this seat taken?

???: I was hoping to put my feet up and take a little nap when things got boring, but sure. You just go ahead and take my footrest. 

Jean: What, you’re not absolutely riveted by rehearsal dinners?

???: Not when it’s my sister getting married to that… Never mind. 

Jean: Whoa. You’re Kate’s brother?

???: Yes? Have we met or something?

Jean: I’m her friend Jean. From Hartfeld?

???: Jean? She talked about you all the time. 

He offers his hand, and you shake it. 

Flynn O’Malley: Flynn.

Jean: Flynn, huh? Kate never mentioned you. 

Flynn O’Malley: I guess she was just as ashamed of me as the rest of the family. 

Jean: Kate would never be ashamed of her brother. 

Flynn O’Malley: If you say so. Then… maybe she figured I’m such a legend, I wouldn’t need to be explained?

Jean: That sounds more like the Kate I know. Or knew…. I’d never have thought she’d marry into a family like this. 

Flynn O’Malley: I’m as surprised as you are. Not that I’ve ever thought much of her taste in men… But I didn’t think she’d wind up with a walking sense of entitlement like Tanner.

Jean: He seems like a nice enough guy…

Flynn O’Malley: ‘Seems’ is definitely the operative word in that sentence. 

Your conversation is interrupted by the sound of a spoon tapping the side of a glass, signalling a toast. A stern older gentleman at the head table rises, a champagne glass in his hand. Diamond cuff links twinkle at his wrists. 

Pierce Sterling: For those of you I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting, I’m Pierce Sterling, father to the young man whose nuptials we’ll be celebrating tomorrow. As most of you know, the Sterling legacy in Birchport goes back many generations. Tomorrow it continues onto the next. For any father, his eldest son’s wedding is fraught with emotion. Many of you know our Kate comes from a… different walk of life…

Attendees give each other uneasy glances…

Pierce Sterling: And yet, she possesses a purity of spirit that I can only describe as Sterling. Please, join me in welcoming Kate O’Malley to our family!

Before anyone has a chance to react, a huge, red-cheeked boor of a man stands up and scoffs!

???: Different walk of life? Come on!

Pierce Sterling: Bryce…

Bryce Sterling: Drop the euphemisms, Dad. Just say what we’re all thinking.

Pierce Sterling: I’m warning you…

Bryce Sterling: She’s a gold-digger!

You feel yourself tense with anger. You notice Flynn clenching his fists. 

Jean: Hey! Asshole! I don’t know who you are, besides a guy who’s hit the bar twenty times too many, but Kate’s a better person than you’ll ever be. 

The attendees react with surprise, and more than a little delight at the drama unfolding.

Bryce Sterling: You’re calling me out for drinking? How could I not be drinking at this farce? Some slut from the wrong side of the tracks waltzes in here and claims my family name, and I’m supposed to… what? Welcome her like a brother?

Pierce Sterling: Enough, Bryce.

Jean: Don’t you dare insult Kate. 

Bryce Sterling: Kate insults me with her presence. 

Pierce Sterling: Bryce, I said enough!

Pierce signals to his wait staff to intercept Bryce, who’s staggering toward you. 

Bryce Sterling: Hey! Get your hands off me!

Fortunately, he’s too inebriated to put up much of a fight, and they quickly whisk him from the room. Pierce shoots you an icy glare, then resumes. 

Pierce Sterling: Now let’s return to our dinner, shall we? I promise there will be no further interuptions. 

He snaps his fingers, and the wait staff begin dinner service. Across the room, Kate catches your eye. She looks grateful. 

Flynn O’Malley: Thanks for that. 

Jean: Sorry. I just… I couldn’t just sit here…

Flynn O’Malley: Trust me, I hear you. If I’d have heard one more word out of that prick’s mouth, they would’ve been scraping him off the floor.

Jean: I would’ve kept my mouth shut if I knew that was the alternative.

Flynn O’Malley: Seriously, though. Thanks. 

Jean: Is it always like this?

Flynn O’Malley: I wouldn’t know. This is the first even the Sterlings have deigned to invite me to. 

Jean: Kate always had a way of attracting drama, but… I don’t know. This seems like too much, even for her. 

Flynn breathes deeply. 

Flynn O’Malley: Look. She’s my little sister, and I want to protect her. But the truth is… Tanner makes her happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen her. 

You look back to the center table, where Kate’s leaning on Tanner’s shoulder, looking up at him with a smile. 

Flynn O’Malley: Honestly? If we can just make it through this wedding… I think she’ll be all right. 

A few hours later, the dinner is winding down. You’re lingering in the parlor when Kate comes running over. 

Jean: Hey stranger.

Kate O’Malley: Oh, Jean… I’m so happy I found you. 

Jean: How’re you feeling?

Kate O’Malley: Excited? Overwhelmed? So happy I wanna scream and at the same time so nervous I wanna throw up?

Jean: So… normal night before your wedding stuff, then?

Kate O’Malley: Exactly!

She grins and wraps you in a massive hug. 

Kate O’Malley: I know we haven’t talked much the last couple years, but… I think about you all the time, you know. 

Jean: Me too. I’m glad we finally have a chance to catch up now, though. 

Kate O’Malley: Yeah, I--

But before she can finish, Grant and Scarlett walk over. 

Grant Emerson: Looks like you two are reconnecting.

Scarlett Emerson: Can I just say, I loved your little dinner show with Bryce! It was like one of those trashy reality shows where they’re always pulling each other’s hair!

Jean: Glad I entertained you. 

Grant Emerson: I’m just somebody said something. Not enough people are willing to put that asshole in his place. 

Jean: So you guys are Kate and Tanner’s crew, huh?

Scarlett Emerson: I suppose. 

Jean: Oh, that reminds me! How was your bachelorette party, Kate?

Kate O’Malley: I… never had one.

Jean: What? Scarlett, isn’t throwing Kate a party one of your duties as maid of honor?

Scarlett Emerson: Bachelorette parties are so tacky. 

Jean: They don’t have to be Besides, this is Kate’s wedding, right? And Kate’s always loved a good party. 

Kate O’Malley: ‘Love’ does not begin to describe my feelings about parties. 

Grant Emerson: Well, it’s still early. Anyone got plans tonight?

Kate O’Malley: Just beauty sleep.

Jean: You’re not going to be with your fiance?

Kate O’Malley: Tanner’s family is big on tradition. I’m not supposed to see him again until the wedding day… which means my plan for the night involved a couple glasses of wine to settle my nerves and a lot of Netflix. 

Grant Emerson: Well that clinches it. Nothing takes your mind off pre-wedding jitters like a night on the town. Kate, you up for a party?

Kate O’Malley: Yes! Yes! That sounds amazing! Fancy cocktails… college stories… dancing and laughing… Jean? Are you in? Not to be dramatic, but… I totally need this!

Jean: I think I’m too tired for that. I’m on deadline for an article.

Kate O’Malley: You’re working?! During my wedding?!

Jean: I really didn’t have a choice. It was the only way my editor would okay this trip. 

Grant Emerson: Let me guess, you pitched a story about ‘the charming seaside town of Birchport’?

Jean: Guilty as charged.

Kate O’Malley: Awwww… But it won’t be the same without you, Jean. I guess we’re both adulting now, huh?

Jean: I guess so. 

Kate envelops you in a long hug. You think you see tears in her eyes, but when she pulls back, they’ve already disappeared. 

Kate O’Malley: And Flynn’s vanished. Typical. I guess I’ll have to party without my bestie and without my brother. 

Kate grabs Grant in one arm and Scarlett in the other. 

Kate O’Malley: You Emersons better loosen up if we’re going to have any fun at all…

Grant Emerson: I’ll do my best, madame.

The trio walks out, and you head back to your B-and-B.

The innkeeper, Miss Harlenay, greets you in the lobby. 

Miss Harlenay: Welcome back, Jean. How was the rehearsal dinner?

Jean: It was… very elegant.

Miss Harlenay: Get a little drama with your dinner, did you?

Jean: How did you know?

Miss Harlenay: You were a guest of the Sterlings. With them, there’s bound to be drama. Not to mention skeletons, flying out of closets shrieking their damned skulls off. 

Jean: Luckily we managed to avoid those…

Miss Harlenay: For now…

She cackles loudly.

Miss Harlenay: Well, good night then, Jean. Tell your friend Kate to watch out for the bones!

Jean: (That was… beyond weird…)

You head upstairs and spend a couple of hours writing up your impressions of Birchport before dropping off to sleep. Later that night, you’re awakened by someone pounding on the front door to the B-and-B.

Jean: Huh?

You peer out the window and see Kate standing on the front step. You hurry down to let her into your room. 

Kate O’Malley: Oh, look at all the doilies! I love doilies!

She picks one up and sets it on top of her head like a hat, twirling around a little and giggling. She stumbles, and the doily drops to the floor.

Jean: Kate, you’re drunk!

Kate O’Malley: I stand… j’accused.

Jean: Let me get you some water.

Kate O’Malley: Water! Yes! I love water! But I’d also love… hic!... another drink…

Jean: From the looks of it, you’ve had enough of those already.

Kate O’Malley: Enough, enough. But it’s never enough, is it…

Jean: Is something wrong?

Kate O’Malley: You should move here, Jean. There’s a newspaper here you could write for… and I’d be here, it would be just like at Hartfeld!

Jean: Slow your roll there, Kate-bear.

Kate O’Malley: Sorry. Am I being clingy? I always get so clingy when I’m drunk…

Jean: Oh, believe me, I remember.

Kate O’Malley: It’s just… you know… I’m so lonely out here.

Jean: Really? What about your family?

Kate O’Malley: You know how it is. My mom’s out of town, and my dad… well, I don’t talk to my dad.

Jean: What about your brother?

Kate O’Malley: I love Flynn, and we still get beers sometimes, but… it’s just hard with me marrying Tanner. There’s a distance between us. I don’t know. I can’t explain. And Tanner’s family, they’re like ice, Jean. I can tell they don’t want me there. 

Jean: What about Tanner, though?

Kate O’Malley: I love Tanner. He’s a good guy, not like the rest. But… but…

You can tell she’s struggling, holding something back…

Jean: What is it?

Kate O’Malley: He’s… I think he’s…

Kate reaches forward and takes your hand, eyes wide, shimmering with unshed tears... Just then, the door flies open! It’s Tanner, and he’s fuming!

Tanner Sterling: Kate! What are you doing out so late? I heard you were drinking again -- the night before our wedding? Do you know how that makes me look?

Kate O’Malley: Tanner! Hi, sweetie! I just… Jean and I wanted to--

Tanner Sterling: Let me finish that for you. You saw no problem whatsoever with showing up to your own wedding hungover. Classy. 

Jean: Hey, lay off her. Kate’s just blowing off steam.

Tanner Sterling: Stay out of this, Jean, it’s none of your concern!

Tanner grabs Kate by the arm and drags her away. 

Jean: Tanner, wait!

But they’re already gone. 

Jean: (That was… disconcerting…)

You feel something in the hand Kate grabbed… you’d been too stunned before to notice. You glance down… and realized she handed you a note!

Jean: (Ulysses? What does that mean? What’s going on around here?)

You look around, but Kate and Tanner are gone. 

You wake up the next morning to a beautiful, sunny day. 

Jean: (I wonder if the Sterlings special-ordered this weather?)

You’re about to head out when Miss Harlenay stops you…

Miss Harlenay: Are you heading to the wedding in that?

Jean: Is there something wrong with it? The only rule I know is not to upstage the bridge…

Miss Harlenay: It’s just… this wedding is Birchport’s social event of the year! You’ll want to look good to fit in with that crowd… Especially if you want to impress that special someone!

Jean: Who are you… what?

Miss Harlenay: Wait here, I have just the thing!

She rushes to the back room, and returns with an outfit…

Miss Harlenay: Here! If you wear this, I guarantee you’ll catch the eye of everyone there!

Jean: Thanks, Miss Harlenay… but I’m going to stick to my outfit. 

Miss Harlenay: That’s… up to you, I suppose. Enjoy the wedding, dear. I’m sure it’ll be a delight. 

You take a taxi to Sterling Manor. You enter the hall, which has been decked out for the ceremony, and the usher asks you where you’d like to sit. You see one seat next to Grant, and choose to sit there. 

Grant Emerson: Jean. So nice to see you again. Ready to bawl your eyes out?

Jean: They all just grow up… so… fast…

The officiant and Tanner walk to the altar, signalling the start of the ceremony. The attendees turn in their chairs, anxious to see the bride walk down the aisle, but the doorway is empty. Everyone waits. And waits…. And waits. By the altar, the Sterlings look at each other uneasily…

Grant Emerson: I wonder what’s going on…

Jean: I… don’t know.

Another minute passes… then another, each one longer and more excruciating. The guests start to shuffle around in their chairs…

Jean: I should go check on her. Make sure she’s okay. 

Grant Emerson: Yeah. Good idea. 

You head to the dressing room where Kate’s supposed to be, a sinking feeling growing in your gut. The door is locked, and you tug on the handle…

Jean: Kate? Kate?

You jerk it hard, forcing it open… But the room is empty. 

Jean: … Kate?

There’s no sign of her. 

Jean: She’s gone. 

[badchoosey]

BloodBound, Book One. Chapter 1: The Interview

New York City.

Raines Corporation Headquarters, downtown Manhattan.

You sit in the sleek modern lobby, waiting for your job interview to begin. Men and women in expensive suits bustle by. 

Amazon: (Everyone looks so serious and professional… do I even have a shot? I really need this job…)

A pair of doors slide open, and a stunning woman with an icy demeanor approaches.

Nicole Anderson: Amazon?

Amazon: Yes, that’s me. 

Nicole Anderson: I’m Nicole Anderson, VP of Operations at Raines Corp. I’m ready to interview you now. 

Amazon: Oh! Uh, sure… absolutely…

Nicole Anderson: You sound surprised.

Amazon: I just wasn’t expecting to be interviewed by someone so high up in the company…

Nicole Anderson: You’re applying to be the executive assistant of our CEO, Adrian Raines himself, one of the most powerful and influential men in the world. We take our hiring process very seriously. 

Amazon: Of course! I totally understand!

Trying to keep up a confident look, you follow Nicole into a sterile conference room. 

Nicole Anderson: Now then. The Raines Corporation is a global leader in technology and innovation. Why exactly are you interested in being the executive assistant to our CEO?

Amazon: Look, I’m not going to lie. The pay here is through the roof, and I need the money bad. I’m drowning in student loans, I still owe my roommate half of last month’s rent, and I’m a little worried I’m going to get scurvy from living off expired ramen. No one in the city is offering the kind of money you are. And I’ll do anything for it. 

Nicole Anderson: An unusually candid answer. I suppose there’s something to be said for that…

Just then, the door at the back of the room swings open, and a handsome man in a perfectly-tailored suit strolls in. His eyes sparkle with a cold intelligence as he assesses you. 

Nicole Anderson: Adrian. I wasn’t expecting you…

Adrian Raines: I had a free minute. Is this the candidate?

Nicole Anderson: Yes… but I’ve just started the interview and--

Adrian Raines: I’ll take over from here. 

Nicole Anderson: … Of course, sir. Go right ahead. 

Adrian pulls up a seat opposite you. It’s like his eyes are burning right through you. 

Adrian Raines: Amazon, is it?

Amazon: That’s right. 

Adrian Raines: Tell me, Amazon. What do you desire?

Amazon: You mean… why do I want this job? Because I--

Adrian Raines: I didn’t ask why you want this job. I asked what you desire.

Amazon: I desire power. 

Adrian cocks an eyebrow.

Adrian Raines: Really?

Amazon: I want control over my life. I want to make my own choices. I want the power to do what I want, when I want, how I want. 

Adrian Raines: I’m impressed with your honesty. 

Amazon: Hey, you asked, right?

He looks down at your resume. 

Adrian Raines: Let’s see here. Graduated college a year ago… Bachelor’s in Communications… interned at Mannon Financial… Volunteered in San Trobida abroad for a year.

Amazon: Yep. That’s right.

Adrian Raines: And how was that? Tell me in three words. 

Amazon: Difficult. Enlightening. Rewarding.

Adrian Raines: Good. This job can be challenging and unpredictable. Are you comfortable running unusual errands?

Amazon: Absolutely. 

Adrian Raines: Handling confidential information?

Amazon: I can keep a secret. 

Adrian Raines: Working nights?

Amazon: Always been a night owl. 

Adrian Raines: Good. Anything else I should know about you?

Amazon: I have a great memory.

Adrian Raines: Oh? What was the first thing I said when I walked in?

Amazon: Look, I’m Adrian. Howdy howdy howdy.

Adrian Raines: I definitely did not say ‘howdy’. 

Amazon: Okay, so my memory’s not great… but I’m hilarious, right?

Adrian Raines: I’ll give you that. One last question. 

He leans forward, hands folded together on the table. His expression is intense, impenetrable. 

Adrian Raines: A long time ago, there lived a man in a distant village. He had a good enough life… a wife, three kids, a village of friends, a plot of land to call his own. But one day, while plowing his field, he found a buried lamp. And when he rubbed it, a genie appeared and gave him three wishes. For the first wish, he asked for great wealth. A pile of gold appeared all around him. But the rest of the village suffered instantly. Their crops withered, wells dried, larders went empty. 

Amazon: Mmhmm..

Adrian Raines: Next, the man wished for immortality. The genie granted it… but when he ran into his house, his wife and children were all dead. 

Amazon: Okay…

Adrian pauses, stares into your eyes, searching, intense…

Adrian Raines: Tell me, Amazon. What should the man ask for, for his third and final wish?

Amazon: He should choose to undo his last two wishes. 

Adrian Raines: Because…?

Amazon: Because he’d already had all he really wanted or needed. It’s a story about greed and temptation. There’s no way for the man to win, because he should never have played this game. All he can hope for is to bring things back to the way they were. 

Adrian nods thoughtfully, momentarily far away… He pauses, deep in thought, fingers steepled… and grins. 

Adrian Raines: You’re hired. 

Amazon: Wh… what? Seriously?

Adrian extends his hand, and you take it. His grip is firm, his skin impossibly smooth. 

Adrian Raines: Welcome to the Raines Corporation. 

Nicole Anderson: But… we have fifteen more candidates! We haven’t even--

Adrian Raines: This is the one. 

Nicole Anderson: … Of course. Understood. 

Amazon: Mr. Raines, sir, I--

Adrian Raines: Call me Adrian. 

Amazon: Adrian, I’m just… so honored for this opportunity! I promise I won’t let you down.

Adrian Raines: Good. Because I take promises very seriously. 

Amazon: When do I start?

Adrian Raines: Right now. 

Nicole leaves to process your paperwork, and Adrian escorts you towards a glistening, shiny elevator… You step inside, and Adrian presses his keycard to a scanner to make a display with buttons appear. He presses one labeled ‘Executive Office’. 

Amazon: So… is this your own private elevator?

Adrian Raines: Yes. 

Amazon: Wow…

Adrian Raines: It’s not as pretentious as you might think. Sometimes it’s necessary for me to get around the building quickly. 

Amazon: Oh, I didn’t mean… I understand you’re a busy person. 

Adrian Raines: One of your jobs is to help me be more efficient so I can get more done. My previous assistant… she didn’t understand that.

Amazon: Is that why she’s no longer… with the company?

Something unexpected passes in Adrian’s eyes. Guilt?

Adrian Raines: … Among other reasons. 

Adrian turns his steely eyes to yours, studying you almost clinically, without a word…

Amazon: (His eyes… like stars in a night sky…) I’ll do my best, sir… I mean, Adrian.

Adrian Raines: I have no doubt you will. That’s why I hired you. 

Amazon: I’m ready to hit the ground running. What’s on the agenda for today?

Adrian Raines: My schedule for the rest of the day is packed. Right now, I need to prepare for a meeting with some very important partners. 

Amazon: Got it. I’ll be sure to meet them as they arrive. 

Adrian Raines: Don’t worry about that. They’re longtime associates of mine. They’ve been here before and know where they’re going. 

Amazon: How many of them are coming?

Adrian Raines: Just two. 

Amazon: Would you like me to order some dinner for the three of you?

Adrian Raines: That won’t be necessary. But there is one thing I’d like for you to do. 

Amazon: Of course. 

Adrian Raines: My guests are formidable people, at the height of power in their fields. And I’m conducting some delicate negotiations… So I wanted to welcome them with some memorable gifts. 

Amazon: No problem. Would you like me to run out and shop for some special items? I can shop like nobody’s business. Especially with someone else’s money. I’m seriously like, semi-pro. 

Adrian Raines: I’ve actually already personally selected a few… unique things. All you need to do is pick them up for me. 

Amazon: Absolutely. 

The elevator stops at the top floor and the doors open to reveal the lobby outside Adrian’s office. 

Adrian Raines: This’ll be your desk. 

Amazon: Wow. 

You step towards it, but Adrian stops you. 

Adrian Raines: You’ll be going back down. All the way down… to the basement archives. 

Amazon: Is… that where the gifts are?

Adrian Raines: Yes. They should have everything ready for you. Afterwards, come find me on the 75th floor conference center. Just be prepared… The archive clerk can be a bit… unusual.

Adrian reaches into the elevator and pushes ‘B’ for basement…

Amazon: ‘Unusual’? Wait, is this some kind of test?

Adrian doesn’t answer, just steps back out and smiles faintly as the doors close… The elevator descends, down, down, down…

You exit the elevator and find yourself in the basement archives.

Amazon: Um… okay… not what I expected…

Archive Clerk: What are you doing here?

Amazon: Whoa!

You’re startled by an old clerk with a deep scowl and an old-fashioned suit. You gather your composure and offer your hand. He doesn’t shake it. 

Amazon: This is a test, right? This has to be a test. 

Archive Clerk: I have no idea what you’re talking about. 

Amazon: Right. I’m here to pick up some items for Mr. Raines…. Some gifts he requested for his guests?

Archive Clerk: Do you have an authorization form?

Amazon: Authorization? No, I…

He turns on his heel and hunches away…

Amazon: Wait! I’m so sorry, sir! Please, just give me a moment. 

The clerk stops and turns around. 

Archive Clerk: You’ve got one moment. 

Amazon: I’m Mr. Raines’ new assistant. I just started today. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed an authorization form, but Mr. Raines himself requested that I come speak to you directly. Thank you for letting me know the proper procedure. I’ll be sure to follow it next time, but Mr. Raines is expecting these items. I don’t want to get fired before I even get a chance to prove myself. 

The clerk doesn’t answer. He just grunts and disappears down a dark aisle of shelves. 

Amazon: (Please, please, please let that have worked… Maybe I should’ve cried a little?)

A few moments later, the clerk reappears with a carved wooden box in his hands. 

Amazon: Is that… everything?

Archive Clerk: It contains three things. Do not get it wrong. 

Amazon: Get what wrong?

He reaches into the box and pulls out an elaborately engraved silver dagger. 

Amazon: Um. 

Archive Clerk: The dagger is for Mr. Castellanos. It’s from the 14th century. 

Amazon: Like… the for real 14th century?

Archive Clerk: Do I look like I play jokes?

Amazon: No. I was just expecting like… a fancy pen with a Raines Corp logo or something. 

He carefully places the dagger back in the box, and next takes out a gold Egyptian scarab beetle, encrusted with precious stones. 

Amazon: That’s… beautiful. 

Archive Clerk: This scarab is 2100 years old. 

Amazon: Like…

Archive Clerk: For real 2100 years. 

Amazon: Holy… I studied these in a history class…

Archive Clerk: It is intended for Ms. Sayeed. 

Amazon: Got it. Anything else?

The clerk pulls one last item from the box: a tiny glass vial filled with a red powder and sealed with a tiny cork. 

Archive Clerk: Mandrake extract. That is something Mr. Raines requested for himself. 

Amazon: Dagger, scarab, mandrake… I’ve got it. 

The clerk nods and hands you the box. 

Archive Clerk: Godspeed. 

He turns and disappears down a dark corridor. 

Amazon: Okay… Thank you, bye… 

From down the corridor, you hear him muttering…

Amazon: (Well, that was incredibly weird. What is the deal with this place?)

You get back in the elevator, carefully cradling the box and its precious contents. As you ride up in the elevator, you pull your phone out of your pocket with one hand and search ‘mandrake extract’. 

Phone:

Mandrake extract is hallucinogenic and narcotic. It was historically used to treat melancholy. In large doses, however, it can induce delirium or unconsciousness.

Amazon: (Okay, like… at what point do I get alarmed?)

You slide the phone in your pocket and pull out the mandrake vial. You hold it up to the light, examining it. The red powder is refined, silky, mysterious…

The elevator arrives. You tuck the vial into your pocket and knock on the door of the conference room. Adrian lets you in. 

Adrian Raines: Excellent, Amazon. Come in please…

You see two other people seated at the massive table. A stunningly elegant woman with an intense gaze and a sweaty, older man who looks you up and down with hungry eyes…

Adrian Raines: This is Amazon, my new assistant. 

Kamilah Sayeed: You do go through them rather quickly…

Adrian Raines: Amazon, this is Kamilah Sayeed, CEO of Ahmanet Financial.

You reach over to shake Kamilah’s hand, but she dismisses it with a curt nod. 

Adrian Raines: Kamilah is a brilliant and fascinating woman, but warmth is not her forte. 

Kamilah rolls her eyes at him. 

Lester Castellanos: I, on the other hand, would be more than happy to shake your hand, gorgeous…

Adrian Raines: … And this is Lester Castellanos, of Castellanos Meats. 

Lester rises and grasps your hand in his. With his other hand, he reaches out and strokes your forearm gently…

Lester Castellanos: What a beautiful, beautiful girl…

Amazon: Whooo… Um… Adrian….?

You look over to Adrian, alarm in your eyes…

Fast, impossibly fast, Adrian crosses the room, grabs Lester’s wrist, and slams his hand into the table with a crack. 

Adrian Raines: Hands to yourself, Lester. 

Kamilah Sayeed: Lester, please, come join us in the 21st century. This sort of conduct is so tiresome. 

With a scowl, Lester jerks his hand back and cradles it. 

Adrian Raines: Amazon, I apologize for Lester’s behaviour, since he doesn’t have the manners to do it himself. Are you okay?

Amazon: Yes, thank you. 

Adrian Raines: Back to business. To commemorate our partnership, I have chosen some small gifts for you. Amazon, can you do the honors?

Amazon: Absolutely…

You reach into the wooden box and pull out the bejeweled scarab.

Amazon: This scarab is for Lester Castellanos. 

Adrian Raines: Ahem…

You look to Adrian, he subtly tilts his head towards Kamilah. 

Amazon: So sorry. My mistake. This is actually meant for Kamilah. 

Lester Castellanos: What a tease you are, Amazon…

Amazon: So sorry. (sorrynotsorry.)

You hand the scarab to Kamilah. Kamilah turns it over in her hands, admiring it. 

Kamilah Sayeed: Ptolemaic Dynasty. Very nice, Adrian. 

Adrian Raines: I thought you’d appreciate it. 

Amazon: The scarab is a symbol of rebirth, if I’m recalling my college class correctly?

Kamilah glances up at you, as if really noticing you for the first time. Your eyes meet. Hers are brown, the deepest, most beautiful brown you’ve seen… like you could lose yourself in them…

Amazon: (What…)

Lester loudly clears his throat, pulling you out of the moment. 

Lester Castellanos: Lovely. Poetic. But what do I get?

You pull the dagger from the wooden box. 

Lester Castellanos: Ooo… angel with a switchblade! I’m in love. 

Kamilah Sayeed: For god’s sake…

Amazon: Actually, it’s an antiquity from the 14th century… and it’s for you, Mr. Castellanos. 

Lester Castellanos: Please, call me Lester. Or Daddy. Whichever you prefer. 

He takes the dagger, facetiously making a point not to touch your hand as he does. 

Lester Castellanos: Thank you, Adrian. And did you see, I minded my manners!

Adrian Raines: Congratulations, Lester. You did the bare minimum not to be walking slime. Thank you, Amazon. You may go. 

Amazon: Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be at my desk. 

You leave the room. 

Amazon: (Blech, what a creep. Though Kamilah seems pretty cool… I’m just glad I made it through that without being fired!)

You head to your desk and wait for the meeting to be over, and text your roommate Lily. 

Amazon - It’s getting late and they’re still in there. This = weird. Do I stay or come home?

Lily Spencer - It’s your first day. Stay. It’s not like you have plans. 

Amazon - Yeah… I guess he did say I’d have to work some nights…

Lily Spencer - Careful w/ that. Been more weird attacks all over the city…

Amazon - More?

Lily Spencer - Yeah…

Amazon - Ugh, so creepy. What are you up to tonight?

Lily Spencer - Date night w/ Melanie

Amazon - Sexay…. Have fun, you be safe too. Gotta go! Later!

You hear the door to the conference room opening, and hear Adrian saying goodbye to Kamilah and Lester. You tuck your phone back in your bag as Adrian approaches your desk. 

Adrian Raines: You’re still here?

Amazon: Well, I wasn’t sure if you still needed me, so… How was the meeting?

Adrian Raines: … Satisfactory. 

Amazon: Fair… enough. So… is there anything else I can do for you, or…

Adrian Raines: No, you’re welcome to go home. I don’t want to keep you any later. But…

Amazon: But?

He hesitates for once… as if thinking it carefully over… 

Adrian Raines: I make it a point to get to know my new employees. Especially those I’ll be working closely with. There’s a restaurant I was planning to go to tonight. One of the finest in the city. Perhaps you’d care to join me for dinner? If you’re not busy that is. 

Amazon: I… have other plans. 

Adrian Raines: Ah, I understand. That’s too bad… Another time, perhaps. Thank you very much for your help today. Have a good night, Amazon. 

He smiles, and there’s a surprising kindness to him, for just a second. 

Adrian Raines: I look forward to working with you. 

Amazon: Yeah. Me too. 

You grab your bag and head out. A little while later, you arrive back at your apartment. Your roommate Lily is there, hanging out on the couch playing a videogame… 

Lily Spencer: Gold medal for kills… gold medal for damage done. Play of the game…. The real Play of the Game would be getting McCree and Hanzo to kiss…

Amazon: Happy as I am to see you crushing it, didn’t you have a date with Melanie tonight?

Lily Spencer: Still waiting for her to text me… 

Amazon: Oh… 

Lily Spencer: Forget it! Tell me all about the new job!

Amazon: It was good. 

Lily Spencer: Awesome! Overly Excited Roommate High-Five!

You emphatically high-five Lily. 

Lily Spencer: Dude, no one deserves a break more than you. 

Amazon: Yeah, yeah. You’re just happy I can make rent. 

Lily Spencer: Not gonna lie, that’s a perk. Well, let’s toast to you being gainfully employed, and… wait, what’s your actual job anyway?

Amazon: I’m assistant to the CEO. 

Lily Spencer: Wait, the CEO? Like Adrian Raines?

Amazon: Yeah. 

Lily Spencer: Oh snapaloosa! Tell me all about him!

Amazon: I’ll tell you everything… if you have a drink with me. 

Lily Spencer: Sure thing. Just know that Melanie is supposed to text me any minute. 

Amazon: She flakes on you all the time… 

Lily Spencer: No, she doesn’t… Okay, she does… 

Amazon: Why do you put up with it?

Lily Spencer: I don’t know. Honestly. 

Amazon: Give her the benefit of the doubt. You wouldn’t want to mess this up if she’s innocent, right?

Lily Spencer: Yeah. Right. You’re the best bestie. I love you. 

Lily hugs you. 

Lily Spencer: Now, where’s that bottle of the good stuff we were saving for a rainy day?

Amazon: Or an employed day!

Lily pulls a bottle of red wine out of the back of the cupboard and opens it. 

Lily Spencer: A toast to Adrian Raines!

You laugh and grab two wine glasses from the cabinet. 

Lily Spencer: What’s he like?

Amazon: He’s super hot. 

Lily Spencer: Now that’s what I’m talking about. Dish! DISH!

Lily pours the wine into the glasses, and it flows like a red waterfall… Something about the color jars your memory.. 

Amazon: Oh no… wait!

Lily Spencer: What?!

Amazon: The red mandrake!

Lily Spencer: Red mandrake? Are you into magic now? Because I am always down for a Buffy marathon…

You pull the small glass vial of red powder out of your pocket. 

Amazon: I forgot to give it to Adrian!

You throw your jacket on and grab your bag. 

Amazon: Sorry, sorry, I have to go!

You rush out into the night, leaving Lily alone. 

Lily Spencer: So… I realize I poured this for us to drink together… but some poor grapes gave their lives for this wine and it would be a tragedy to waste it…

Lily drinks her wine. And yours. 

You dash back to the office, begging the security guard to let you in, and take the elevator back to your desk. You see a crack of faint light under the door to Adrian’s office, just beyond… 

Amazon: (Phew, he’s still here…)

You push his office door open… 

Amazon: Adrian… Oh my god!

Adrian cranes his head up from the body of his VP, staring at you… 

Amazon: AHHHHHHHH!

[badchoosey]

Perfect Match, Book One. Chapter 1: True Love, Guaranteed

You walk down a bustling Brooklyn street, the sounds of the city humming all around you. 

Karma: (Hope I’m not late!)

Soft music plays as you step into the hip venue of an upscale art show. 

Karma: Nadia! Hey!

You spot your cousin, Nadia, among the crowd. Her face lights up as she approaches with arms outstretched and wraps you in a tight hug!

Nadia: Karma! I’m so happy you made it!

Karma: Are you kidding? The opening of your new art collection? I wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

Nadia: Honestly, I have no idea how it blew up. But who am I to argue with the review of an art critic?

Karma: You mean glowing reviews from dozens of art critics?

Nadia: Oh, shush! Anyway, that’s not what I was excited about. 

Karma: Then what is it?

Nadia: I want you to meet my boyfriend!

Nadia waves over to a handsome man from across the room…

Nadia: Steve! Come say hi to my cousin!

Steve: Hey! You must be Karma! I’ve heard so much about you. I’ve been dying to meet you for weeks, but I’ve been busy at the animal shelter. 

Karma: Oh! Do you work there?

Nadia: Steve’s an investment banker. But he volunteers at an animal shelter. Amazing, right?

Steve: Ah, it’s nothing. I’m just a guy who likes to do some good in his free time. Nadia here is the amazing one. The way her art makes me feel… It’s indescribable. 

Nadia: Aww, sweetie!

Steve: Now, if you’ll excuse me, Karma, I’ve got to replenish the hors d’oeuvres. We’ll talk later! My mini-quiches are going fast!

Steve gives Nadia a kiss on the cheek and hustles off. Nadia sighs, beaming. 

Nadia: Did I mention he bakes? He bakes. So… What do you think?

Karma: No one is that perfect. I’m calling bull. How much are you paying him?

Nadia: Ha, ha. Don’t be mad that I’ve found the ultimate boyfriend!

Karma: Really though. Where did you find this guy?

Nadia: I met him through a matchmaking service. They asked me some questions, then found the perfect man for me! They’re very exclusive. Super selective with their clientele. But I’m sure they’d accept you in a heartbeat!

Nadia reaches into her purse and hands you a business card. 

Nadia: You should try them out!

Karma: True love, guaranteed? I’ll believe it when I see it!

Nadia: That’s not a nooo…

Karma: I mean… What the hell? I’ll give it a shot. You’ve piqued my curiosity.

Just then, a voice calls to you from the crowd… 

Damien: Don’t tell me Nadia has got you drinking this ‘matchmaking’ service Kool-Aid too, Karma. You of all people don’t need some fancy matchmaking service. 

Your good friend Damien saunters over, seamlessly switching his empty champagne glass with a fresh one from a server’s tray. 

Karma: I’ll take that as a compliment. But you can’t argue with the results. Steve seems like a catch. 

Damien: Yeah, I talked to Mr. Perfect on the way in. Haven’t found any flaws or dark secrets yet. But give me time. 

Nadia: Really, D? We’ve known you for like, four years. I thought you would’ve dropped the tough, cynical act by now. 

Damien: I’m a private investigator. I catch liars and cheaters for a living. ‘Cynical’ is basically my job. 

Nadia: Don’t listen to him, Karma. He’s like the Grinch when it comes to love. Eros is the best matchmaking service ever! I’ll schedule you an appointment for a consultation!

Damien: Yeah! A vague, secretive company providing little to no contact information… What could go wrong? Just keep your guard up, Karma… Maybe bring pepper spray, or hold your keys like claw. 

Nadia: Ignore him. It’ll be amazing! I know you’re gonna find someone perfect for you!

Karma: Can’t wait!

Later that week, you arrive outside the address Nadia gave you. A sleek, unlabeled complex towers above you…

Karma: (Okay, this is a little weird. Not so much as a logo on the door. But the address looks right…)

You push through the glass doors to enter a warm, inviting lobby. A stunning woman strides gracefully across the room, the steps of her heels echoing through the halls. 

Cecile: Karma Park? My name is Cecile Contreras. I’m the Head of Matchmaking here at Eros. Welcome! You got here on the J train, didn’t you? I hope getting to the new Quincy Station wasn’t too much of a hassle. 

Karma: Uh, thank you… How did you know--

Cecile: We’ve done our homework. Eros has been expecting you, after all. Your cousin Nadia gave you a glowing referral. I’m excited to begin. Please, follow me. 

You follow Cecile through the pristine halls of Eros Incorporated…

Karma: I’m still a little overwhelmed by this whole thing. How can you guarantee true love?

Cecile: A good question. Love is a complex thing. But here at Eros, we’ve used the latest in behavioural science and technology to devise the most sophisticated matchmaking system in the world. 

Karma: So you think you’ve got people figure out… with some algorithm?

Cecile: Your personality, your wants, your needs… All of that makes you unique, like a puzzle piece. But somewhere out there is a piece that fits flawlessly with you. An exact complement. A perfect match. Our technology helps sort through the pieces to find yours. Simply put, the human heart is precisely out expertise. 

Karma: Sounds like a sales pitch. I’m not so easily won over by the slogans and buzz words. 

Cecile: Touche. But we stand by every claim. Give us a chance to convince you, and I promise you’ll be satisfied. 

Karma: Well… I’m already here. 

She leads you into a peaceful, softly lit room. A sweet, floral aroma and calming music fill the space around you. 

Cecile: Welcome to our consultation room. This is where we’ll be conducting our Perfect Match questionnaire. 

Karma: Is this the part where I tell you my middle name, my hobbies, and where I went to high school?

Cecile: Nadia sent us the personality profile you filled out, so we already have the basic information we need. Today will be all about finding out what you’re looking for in a match. 

Karma: Oh… Okay… So why does this place look more like a day spa than a quiz room?

Cecile: Oh, I assure you, our questionnaire is more than just a quiz. It’s a comprehensive interview, monitoring not just your words, but your biorhythms, your excitement, your emotional engagement… As such, we want you to be perfectly at ease. 

She invites you to sit on a reclining chair in the middle of the room, and instantly your mind drifts as you sink into the shockingly comfortable seat. Cecile sits on a chair beside you with a tablet in hand. 

Cecile: Simply place your hand on the palm scanner, and we can begin. 

You place your hand on the smooth surface of the chair’s arm. It hums and glows, and soon a soft chime sounds in sync with your own heartbeat. The lights in the room dim as your mind drifts, peacefully… 

Cecile: Now, relax. Close your eyes… focus on the sound of my voice… and speak from your heart…

Cecile taps on her tablet. You hear her voice from a distance as your eyes close… 

Cecile: I have twelve brief questions. Please answer as honestly as you can. 

You’re on a first date. Which makes you want a second:

Talking for hours about everything?

Being intrigued and left wanting more?

Karma: Being intrigued and left wanting more. 

Cecile: When traveling abroad, your perfect match would rather take you:

To explore ancient ruins, just the two of you

To a lively festival, bustling with locals

Karma: To explore ancient ruins, just the two of you

Cecile: You’re transported into a fantasy novel. Which character is more attractive?

A magnetic ruler, leading and inspiring the people

A silent, formidable warrior, fighting evil from the shadows

Karma: A silent, formidable warrior, fighting evil from the shadows.

Cecile: Your favorite childhood playground is being torn down. Your perfect match:

Takes you there for a farewell picnic

Steal you a piece of it to keep forever

Karma: Steals me a piece to keep forever. 

Cecile: Who do you imagine your partner hung out with in high school?

A close-knit group of friends

A rowdy bunch of outcasts

Karma: A rowdy bunch of outcasts

Cecile: Your match appears in a dream with an animal companion. What kind is it?

A fierce, wild hawk

A loyal, noble golden retriever

Karma: A fierce, wild hawk. 

Cecile: Complete the sentence. My perfect match can always:

Makes me laugh until I cry

Say the right thing to comfort me when I’m down

Karma: Say the right thing to comfort me when I’m down

Cecile: What would your ideal partner sing during a karaoke date?

A love song dedicated to you

A ridiculous theme song, just to tease you

Karma: A love song dedicated to me

Cecile: Your perfect match has just defeated a supervillain. What do they do next?:

Righteously condemn the villain’s actions

Spout a witty catchphrase

Karma: Righteously condemn the villain’s actions

Cecile: Your travel plans have fallen through. What does your partner do?

They point blindly to a map, and plan a new adventure on the fly

They have you covered no matter what, backup plan and all

Karma: They have me covered no matter what, backup plan and all.

Cecile: How would your partner clear out a building full of zombies?:

They devise a brilliant plan and execute it flawlessly

They charge in, guns blazing!

Karma: They devise a brilliant plan, and execute it flawlessly.

Cecile: You’re at a casino, and your partner is winning big. Why is that?

They take big risks, and it pays off

They’re savvy and calculating, and play the odds

Karma: They’re savvy and calculating, and play the odds. 

Cecile: You’re doing wonderfully, Karma. We have enough to find you a suitable match, but first, I’d like to ask if there’s anything in particular you’re looking for… I’m going to list a few traits that your potential match may possess… Let me know if any of them resonate strongly with you. For those who prioritize physical intimacy, we have many candidates with massage skills. We can refine our search to animal lovers and pet owners, who are often compassionate and kind. If you’re drawn to creative, artistic souls, we can match you with musicians. Last but not least, many people seek the culture and intelligence of someone who speaks many languages. Which of these appeals to you?

Karma: I’m looking for someone with a magic touch. 

Cecile: An excellent choice. Would you like to distinguish your preferences further? Remember, there’s no shame in being picky when it comes to love. You’re absolutely worth it. 

Karma: I’m fine with my selection. 

The lights in the room brighten, and you are suddenly aware of your surroundings again. Cecile looks up from her note-taking and smiles warmly at you. 

Cecile: That concludes the questionnaire. Not so bad, was it? Based on your responses, we’ll determine which of our sixteen personality types best describes your Perfect Match. I’ll have your results in a moment…

Cecile taps on the tablet before turning it to show you the display… 

“Your perfect match is an Activist… - mysterious, rebellious, sincere, logical - … Someone with passion, drive, and vision, an Activist fights to change the world… and will fight just as hard for you!”

Karma: Wow. Just like that? Are you sure this type is the match for me?

Cecile: Skepticism is completely understandable. But I encourage you to trust the system. I think you’ll find that our system may surprise you. 

Karma: Well… I guess I could give it a shot. So… What next?

Cecile: Next? Simply leave the rest to us. We’ll find the most compatible partner for you in our database and arrange your first date. You’ll be hearing from us soon!

Karma: Sounds like a plan. And what happens after that?

Cecile flashes you a wink. 

Cecile: Why, true love, of course. 

You step out of the Eros building into the brisk night air, the New York City skyline towering above you. 

Damien: Made it out of the Mystery Company in one piece, huh?

Karma: Damien? What are you doing here?

Damien leans against his old muscle car, pulling his jacket tight against the cold. 

Damien: Check your phone, lovebird. I called you a couple times. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t joined a cult, or bought a timeshare or anything… And also offer you a ride home. 

Karma: You just wanted the dirt on this Mystery Company, huh?

Damien smiles. 

Damien: Wow… You know me too well, Karma. Come on. 

Soon, you’re watching the city lights streak by through the passenger window of Damien’s car as you catch him up on your day. 

Damien: So, really… this Eros thing. You’d think you’d just swipe left and right like other apps. No, you know, go to a day spa for a fancy interview. 

Karma: Maybe it’s a little… unconventional, but it seemed legit to me. 

Damien; Unconventional is an understatement. But hey, whatever makes you happy. 

Damien pulls the car to a stop outside your apartment building.

Damien: … I actually mean that too. I want you to be happy. 

Karma: Oh, really? No sarcasm this time? No snarky retort?

You catch Damien’s eye as a slight smirk spreads across his face…

Damien: Despite my unflappably cool facade… I do have the capacity to care about someone. Occasionally. 

Karma: Don’t get sappy on me now, Damien. 

Damien: Wouldn’t dream of it. 

One afternoon that weekend, you’re lounging in your apartment when a knock sounds on the door. You open it to find… 

Nadia: Karma! I’m guessing you haven’t left your apartment today. 

Karma: What makes you say that?

Nadia: Because if you stepped outside, you would have noticed this on your doorstep!

Nadia hands you a pristine display of flowers with an envelope attached! You open the card inside…

Karma: It’s from Eros! ‘Dear Karma, True love awaits! We’ve found someone special for you, and have already arranged your first date. At the end of the night, we’ll survey you both separately. If you both feel a connection, you’ll be declared a Match! You need only come with an open heart… and leave the rest to destiny.’ 

Nadia: Well, I came here hoping to ask how your appointment went, but I guess I have my answer! I remember when I got my letter from Eros… I was so excited! This is gonna be amazeballs! Right?!

Karma: I think there better be a money-back guarantee. 

Nadia: Ugh, you’ve been hanging around Damien too much. Let yourself be hopeful! This match they’ve found is going to be great for you!

Karma: Let’s hope so. The details on the card say that Eros has scheduled our first date… For tonight!

Nadia: Wait, what? We’ve got to get you ready!

Soon, Nadia is leading you on a last-minute shopping trip. She pores over the card from Eros as you browse through outfits. 

Nadia: Tonight could be the start of your beautiful, perfect love story, Karma! You’ve got to make a good impression! Luckily, Eros has you covered!

Karma: What do you mean?

Nadia This card from Eros includes some style suggestions based on your Perfect Match’s taste! Perfectly tailored to impress him!

Karma: They can do that?

Your cousin pulls an outfit from the rack…

Nadia: This one! It fits the suggestion perfectly! Try it on!

Karma: I think I’m just going to go as I am…

Nadia: Well… if this person really is your perfect match, they should love you regardless! I trust in the system!

As the afternoon goes on and the sun starts to set, you finish prepping with Nadia… When a sudden knock at the front door sounds! You hurry over to the living room with Nadia in tow!

Nadia: Ohmygod, ohmygod… He’s here. Answer it, quick! Tonight will be the start of your beautiful storybook romance!

You try to calm your cousin as you open the door…

Karma: Relax, Karma. It doesn’t have to be a ‘storybook romance’. No one is expecting this night to be--

Hayden: Hi, I’m Hayden. You must be Karma….

Karma: I… um… wow.

[badchoosey]

Home for the Holidays, Chapter One: There’s No Place Like Home

It’s the annual holiday party at Piquant Press in downtown Manhattan… But you’re at your desk, frantically finishing up the last of your work. 

Egg Just a few… more… lines…

Suddenly, a glass of eggnog is thrust into your field of vision!

Egg: Whoa!

Friend: Egg Joy, if you don’t stop working right now, I’m not going to be office BFFs with you anymore!

Egg: Bree, there’d better be rum in this.

Bree: There isn’t, but I did bring you the fun flask if you wanna spice things up a little.

Egg: Have I told you lately that you’re my favourite?

Bree hands you the glass, then hops on your desk.

Bree: Are you done with your edits yet? ‘Cause I’m ready to party!

Egg: Just give me one minute…

Your fingers fly over the keyboard as you make a few more changes to the paragraph on your monitor. 

Egg: And… done!

Bree: I’m sure it’s genius too. I swear, I don’t know why it took them so long to promote you from intern to junior editor.

Egg: I’m just grateful to have the position now, which is why I can’t slack off. 

Bree: It’s not slacking off if the whole company is partying. Even Nick is out there. And he’s looking fiiiiiine in that tux, don’t you think?

You follow Bree’s gaze to find your boss Nick talking to your other coworkers…

Egg: Nick is not my type. You know I don’t go for the strict, workaholic type.

Bree: Hey, I’d go for any type if they looked like Nick. 

Just then, people start to file up to the roof…

Bree: Looks like it’s time for Nick’s big speech.

Up on the roof, Nick stands on stage, calling for everyone’s attention.

Nick: Welcome to our annual holiday party. For those of you new to Piquant Press, I’m Nick Peralta, the editor-in-chief here.

Bree whispers to you…

Bree: And resident hottie.

Egg: Shhh! Someone’s gonna hear you!

Nick: It’s been a banner year for our little publishing company. We may be small, but we’ve held our own against the industry goliaths. 

A cheer starts to go up from your coworkers, but Nick raises a hand to keep them quiet. 

Nick: That means we must work even harder. I myself always find the perfect project to start the year off right, and I expect the same of my junior editors. Speaking of which, we recently promoted a select few to editing positions. Instead of praising the year we’ve had, we should applaud their diligence. Nic catches your eye over the crowd.

Nick: Ms. Joy, as one of our newest editors, is there anything you want to say to the group?

Egg: Me?

Bree: Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!

Bree pushes you toward the stage, and Nick hands you the microphone. 

Egg Thank you, Mr. Peralta. Uh… as you mentioned, I’m Egg, one of the new junior editors. I just want to say…. Umm… Merry… Christmas?

Nick So glad you could share those enlightening thoughts with us.

Nick holds his hand out for the microphone.

Egg: Right. Sorry. 

Nick turns back to the crowd as you hop off stage. 

Nick: We have a lot of work ahead of us in the coming year, so I hope you take this time to rejuvenate… Because come January 1st, the party’s over. 

Nick lifts his champagne glass. 

Nick: Happy Holidays. 

Egg: Happy Holidays indeed. 

You meet back up with Bree inside the main office. 

Bree: Is it just me, or did Santa leave coal in Nick’s stocking one too many times?

Egg: He does seem to have it out for Christmas. I wonder why…

Bree: Well, if anyone can figure it out, it’s you. 

Egg: What’s that supposed to mean?

Bree: Just that Nick totally likes you. The two of you would be so cute together!

Egg: Bree, he’s my boss. You know the rules. 

Bree: There’s no official rule in the employee handbook. And besides, bending the rules only makes things more fun!

Nick: Excuse me. 

Just then, Nick brushes by you and Bree. 

Egg: Sorry!

After he’s out of earshot, Bree starts to giggle. 

Bree: Ohmygod, do you think he heard us?

Egg: I hope not!

You watch as Nick disappears down the hall toward his office…

Egg: If Nick did hear us, he doesn’t look too upset about it. He’s going right back to work.

Bree: Yeah, rumor has it he still hasn’t picked his first manuscript for next year. He never waits this long to pick his projects. He’s even taking a business trip to Barbados to meet with a potential author. Can you imagine?

Egg A tropical Christmas, huh? I’d rather have a white Christmas any day.  Nothing beats fresh snow and a cup of hot cocoa!

Bree: You do paint a pretty picture. 

You turn your gaze back down the hallway, where you can just make out the light flickering on in Nick’s office. 

Egg: He must be looking for something really special for his first manuscript. 

Bree: Egg, this is the perfect opportunity to talk to Nick! You can convince him to take a break, relax a little… and get to know him better…

Egg: Bree, he might not even be single.

Bree: You won’t know until you ask!

Egg: He’s probably busy…

Bree: Exactly! Someone has to teach him work-life balance, and I’m volunteering you!

Egg: I don’t wanna bother him…

Bree: You could never be a bother, Egg. But if you’re not gonna try to get on Nick’s good side… I’m gonna take full advantage!

Bree grabs your arm and leads you out onto the dancefloor. 

Bree: We’re gonna jingle bell rock the night away!

Egg: I don’t know if that’s such a good idea… I have to get up early to drive home tomorrow--

Bree: The night is still young, and so are we!

Egg: I guess one dance won’t hurt…

The two of you continue to party late into the night…

The next morning…

Egg: I’m exhausted… I’m never staying out late with Bree again!

You’re about an hour outside of town when your phone rings. You answer it on bluetooth…

Egg: Hey Mom, I promise I’m not flaking out again, I’m almost there.

Mom: I’m not calling about that. I know you wouldn’t dare cancel on me again. Have you heard the big news?!

Egg: Mome, you know I never hear the town gossip when I’m in the city.

Mom: You remember Holly?

Egg: Holly Wright? My childhood best friend? Yeah, her name rings a bell. 

Mom: Enough of your ‘tude, missy. Turns out, she wrote a book!

Egg: Mom…

Mom: Her manuscript was just leaked to the whole town! Everyone’s talking about it. I was thinking maybe you could take a look…?

Egg: Mom, I can’t publish a book as a favor. I was just promoted to junior editor. I have to protect my reputation at the company. 

Mom: I know that, sweetie. I’m not asking you to publish it sight unseen. Just give it a chance once you get here, okay? I think the story will surprise you.

Egg: If you say so… I guess it couldn’t hurt to look it over. 

Mom: Alright, sweetie. I’ll see you soon. 

Egg: Wait, that’s it? That’s all you wanted to talk about?

Mom: Unless you want to talk about your love life?

Egg: Oh, wow, look at all this traffic. I’d better focus on driving! Bye, Mom!

You shake your head as you hang up the phone. You turn off the highway, and soon you’re zooming along the only road into town…

Egg: Deer!!! Aaaaah!

You grip the steering wheel and then you freeze, your mind completely blank, as your car barrels toward the deer… At the last second, the deer darts out of the way!

Egg: Waaah!

Finally, your body reacts, and you wrench the wheel to the right! Your car swerves into an embankment, and the trees overhead unload their snow your windshield!

Egg: Ooooof… Now what?

You try to open the door, but it won’t budge. You grab your phone… 

Egg: Mom… I need help!

You quickly explain what happened…

Mom: Don’t worry. I know the perfect person to get you out!

Later, you hear scratching and scraping outside your car as someone digs you out…

Egg: Hello?

Voice: Hang tight. I’ll have you out soon.

Egg: You’re a lifesaver!

The voice sounds comforting, familiar… Suddenly, you realize who it is.

Egg: Wyatt Hart? Is that you?

Voice: At your service. Your mom called me to help you out.

Egg: (I can’t believe my mom called my high school boyfriend to rescue me!)

A few minutes later, you see Wyatt grinning at you through the window. 

Egg: Wyatt… Don’t think this means I need to be rescued all the time. I’m not some damsel in distress.

Wyatt forces your door open, and you squeeze out. 

Wyatt Trust me, I remember. If anything, you’ve always been the one to rescue me. Come on, I’ll give you a lift back into town. 

Egg: But my car…

Wyatt: Don’t worry, I’ll tow it out later. Let’s get you home first. 

You look at Wyatt’s truck, which has Hart Mechanics emblazoned on the side. 

Egg: Well, if you’re sure…

Soon, you’re in Wyatt’s truck cruising through the outskirts of Winter Haven…

Wyatt: So, dare I ask how you managed to find yourself buried under all that snow?

Egg: There may have been a deer involved… But don’t worry, it got away.

Wyatt: Ah, that explains the angry herd of deer I passed on the way in. Good thing I got to you before them. 

You grin, comforted by the familiar rapport. You look out the window just as you pass by the town square. 

Egg: Wow…

Wyatt: How does it feel to be back?

Egg: Like I never left. 

Wyatt: And the Big Apple’s treating you okay? Your mom mentioned you just got a promotion. 

Egg: Of course she did. Yeah, I just made junior editor. Youngest in the company’s history. 

Wyatt: Wow, congrats. I’m surprised they could spare you long enough for a trip home this year. 

Egg Trust me, they’re not missing me just yet. Besides, I brought my laptop, so I’ll still be plugged in. 

Wyatt: I’m really happy for you, Egg. It sounds like all your dreams are coming true. 

Egg: Something like that… What about you?

Wyatt: What about me?

Egg: We haven’t seen each other in years! There must be something new in your life!

Wyatt: Nah, it’s pretty much same old, same old for me. 

You poke Wyatt’s shoulder. 

Egg: You know I can tell when you’re not telling me something, right?

Wyatt: Oh hey, remember when we used to sneak away to Sweetheart Lake back in the day?

You roll your eyes as Wyatt points out to the turnoff to the lake up ahead. 

Egg: Subtle. 

Wyatt: I know I definitely remember our late night rendezvous in high school. 

Egg: ‘Rendezvous’?

Wyatt: What? I thought it made me sound refined. 

Wyatt gives you a warm smile. 

Wyatt: We could take the long way home by the lake, you know. We just got some fresh snowfall, perfect for snow angels. And if Ms. Big City isn’t too busy, I’d like to get to know the new you. What do you say?

Egg: Maybe another time…

Wyatt: Oh? Do you plan to get your car snowed in again?

Egg: You know what I mean. 

Wyatt: Yeah. I do. 

Wyatt grins as he turns down the direct route to your house… He pulls up outside your childhood home. You take in the familiar sight… 

Egg: It’s good to be home… 

Wyatt grabs your bags out of the back of the truck. 

Wyatt: Hate to drop you off and run, but I gotta get back to the garage and then rescue your poor car. 

Egg: You’ll call me with an estimate?

Wyatt: Not on your life. Consider it a welcome home present.

Wyatt gives you a little salute. 

Wyatt: See you around. 

Egg: See you. 

You head inside… You find your adopted mother and brother in the kitchen…

Mom: Egg! You’re home!

Dylan: And alive!

Your mom wraps you in a big hug. 

Egg: Yes, yes, I survived my harrowing journey.

Mom You’re just in time for some of my world-famous apple cider. 

Egg: Mmmm… that sounds perfect. 

Your mom pours you a steaming cup of hot cider. 

Dylan: What took you so long?

Mom: Honey, at least let your sister finish a sip before you start the interrogation. 

Egg: It’s fine. He was born to be annoying. 

You reach over to ruffle your brother’s hair. 

Egg: I was just dealing with car trouble. 

Dylan: ‘Car trouble’, huh? Is that Wyatt’s new nickname?

Egg: It’s not like that… Wait, how did you even know I was with Wyatt?

Dylan: He owns the only mechanic shop in town… plus Mom called him… plus we saw you guys outside. Take your pick. 

Egg: How have you been, Dylan?

Dylan: Changing the subject? Classic. What do you wanna know?

Egg: Tell me about school, you enjoying your senior year?

Dylan: Eh. It’s alright. 

Egg: And your college apps? Are you staying on top of those?

Dylan: Yes, Mom. Did you come home just to nag me?

Egg: Pretty much. 

Mom: Alright, alright. Give your poor mother one afternoon without bickering, please?

Your mom refills her own mug with cider then turns back to you. 

Mom: Dylan’s right though. You and Wyatt looked awfully cosy in his truck…

Egg: Mom, not you too!

Mom: I’m just saying, he’d make such a good boyfriend if you didn’t already have one. 

Egg: What? I don’t have a boyfriend.

Mom: You don’t? But what about that man who called? He said he was from the city… and he seems like your type… And he’s coming here, so I just assumed…

Egg: Mom, trust me. I’d know if I had a boyfriend. 

Mom: If you say so…

Egg: Wait, are you talking about--?

Just then, you’re interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

Egg: I’ll get it. 

You open the front door to find…

Nick: Ms. Joy. 

Egg: Mr. Peralta?!

[badchoosey]

Red Carpet Diaries, Book One. Chapter 1: Hello, Hollywood!

The limo rumbles gently underneath you as it rolls up to the theater. You can hear the chatter of the crowd outside. 

Jester: (No matter how many times I do this… it never gets old.)

With a deep breath, you throw open the door… And step out onto the red carpet! People clap, lights flash, and voices call your name!

Fan: We love you, Jester!

Fan2: You’re the best, Jester!

You walk forward with a smile and a wave. One reporter waves you down…

Pippa Majors: Jester! Jester! Pippa Majors, Fashion Network… can I have a word?

Jester: Of course, Pippa! You’re looking as radiant as ever!

Pippa Majors: Well, I’ve got nothing on you! You’re absolutely stunning! How are you feeling about the premiere of your latest film?

Jester: Who cares? I’m just here for the after-party! I heard they’ve got trained penguins serving the cocktails!

Pippa Majors: Ha! There’s the Jester we all know and love! I have to say, you have quite the crowd here! I’m pretty sure I’m looking at all of Hollywood’s A-list!

You turn back around, and even now, it’s a little hard to believe just how many incredible people you see. There’s legendary movie star Chris Winters, brilliant director Thomas Hunt, and your all-time hero, legendary actress Victoria Fontaine!

You turn back to Pippa with a smile.

Jester: Yeah… it’s pretty amazing. 

Pippa Majors: I’ll let you go, but one more question first….

Jester: Of course!

Pippa Majors: You’ve built up an incredible career in the last few years… broken all box office records… Won three Best Actress awards… started an acclaimed clothing line… and even released a chart-topping album!

Jester: What can I say, Pippa? I’m prolific!

Pippa Majors: So I just have to ask… is it true there’s a special someone in your life? Has Jester finally found love?

Jester: I… I…

A rough jolt snaps you out of your dream! You wake up to find yourself on a coach seat in a crowded plane, arriving in LA. 

Pilot: Welcome to Los Angeles, where the local weather is 75 degrees and sunny… pretty much always! From this Des Moines based crew, thanks for flying with us. Enjoy your stay!

Jester: (Oh…. just a dream… But hey, as far as dreams go… not bad!)

You make your way out of LAX Airport into the bright California sun. 

Jester: I can’t believe I’m really here… Hollywood… 

A car horn grabs your attention. Across the street you spot an expensive convertible, and the man driving it is waving… at you!

Chazz: Hey beautiful!

It’s Chazz, an old friend from high school, now a Hollywood agent!

Jester: Chazz? Wow… You’re really giving me the star treatment!

Chazz: Hey, around here, it’s not just ‘dress for the job you want’. You gotta drive for it too!

Jester: Let me guess, you’re applying for… millionaire playboy?

Chazz: Perpetually.

You climb into Chazz’s convertible, and the two of you take off down the streets of LA. 

Chazz: So! I want to hear everything that’s going on with you. 

Jester: Besides moving to Hollywood and trying to make my dreams come true?

Chazz: Aren’t we all? So dish-a-lish… what are those dreams? What are you hoping to do now that you’re in Hollywood?

Jester: I want what everybody wants.

Chazz: Money? Fame? A pool full of cabernet that you can just sorta soak in?

Jester: No, dummy. To fall in love!

Chazz: Oh my god. You are PERFECT for this town. Even your dreams sound like something out of a movie! We are so on the same page. It’s totally decided already. I’m representing you!

Jester: Really? But you haven’t even seen me audition! I’m pretty sure the last time you saw me act was our class production of Oklahoma… where I was ‘Cowgirl #3’. 

Chazz: I still remember you in that… an adorable dorky sophomore with braces and a huge crush on Mark Pomodoro…

Jester: Like you were any better… a loud-mouthed senior attention-hog with an even bigger crush on Mark Pomodoro…

Chazz: And to think… he chose Jenna Tromboli over both of us.

Jester: No accounting for taste.

You reach over and squeeze Chazz’s hand. 

Jester: For real, though, Chazz… your friendship got me through the hardest years of high school. 

Chazz: Right back atcha… which is precisely why I’m offering you representation, no audition needed! Besides, you’d be doing me a favor. Every agent wants to be representing the hottest new actress in town, after all!

Jester: Chazz, that sounds too good to be true. Don’t you think that’s aiming a little high? I can’t be the only wannabe actress in this town. 

Chazz: You don’t think I can pull it off?

Jester: Of course I think you can do it! I just don’t want to let you down!

Chazz: Oh, if that’s all, then we have nothing to worry about. You could never let me down, Jester!

Jester: Thanks, Chazz! That makes me feel better. 

Chazz: What are friends for?

Chazz turns onto a winding drive lined with palm trees. At the end is the biggest, most luxurious manor you’ve ever seen! He parks and walks around to help you out of the sports car. 

Jester: Is this your house?

Chazz: Well, I don’t like to brag…

Jester: This place is… alright, I guess.

Chazz: Oh come on. I know you’re impressed. We grew up in the same town, Jester. Where the most impressive building was the Corn and Corn products museum. 

Jester: You think this compares to CaCPM? Seems a little meh after the glories of ‘the hall of seed varietals.’

Chazz: Can’t argue with that!

Chazz walks confidently through the door. Inside, the manor is even more opulent. Framed movie posters line the walls. The two of you wander through the entrance hall, peering at each one. 

Jester: Wow, is that poster for Kingmaker signed by the entire cast? That movie was huge!

Chazz: What can I say, I’ve got a nose for a hit. 

Jester: Oh, and The Warmest Winter! I have always adored Victoria Fontaine. 

Chazz: She’s brilliantissimo. One of the best. 

Jester: I haven’t seen her in anything for a while though…

Chazz: Yeah, well, the shine can come off anything around here. 

Chazz’s phone rings. 

Chazz: Damn, I have to take this. Why don’t you check out the grounds and meet me back here in a few minutes?

Jester: The grounds? How very ‘to the manor born’ of you. 

Chazz rolls his eyes and answers his phone, pointing down a hallway that leads to the back of the mansion. 

Dozens of beautiful people lounge on chairs or float in the water, drinks in hand. 

Jester: Wow…

Feeling starstruck, you turn back to a sleek, fully-stocked bar. 

Waiter: Mimosa, miss?

A waiter offers you a tray filled with champagne flutes. You smile and pluck one off the edge. 

Jester: Uh, thank you. 

He walks off towards a cluster of women in bikinis dangling their legs in the pool. Feeling awkward, you lean against the bar and sip your drink. As you do, you notice a movie poster framed under the bar of ‘The Devil’s Canyon’ with Matt Rodriguez…

Jester: (The biggest action movie of last summer… and Matt Rodriguez was amazing in it…)

Guy’s Voice: Excuse me… 

You turn to say hello to whoever has joined you at the bar….

Matt: Could I get a gin and tonic?

It’s Matt Rodriguez! From the poster! In the flesh! And totally shirtless.

Matt flashes his multimillion-dollar smile at you and reaches for his drink. Somehow it makes his abs look even more cut. 

Matt: I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Matt. 

You smile politely and sip your drink. 

Jester: I’m Jester. NIce to meet you… Matt, right?

Matt: Yes. Matt. Matt Rodriguez. You… haven’t heard of me?

Jester: I’m not sure. Should I have?

Matt: Wow, uh… no. I guess there’s no reason you should have. It’s frankly refreshing to meet someone who hasn’t. 

Jester: Well, then you’re welcome for the refreshment… but I have to be honest. I was just playing around. I’ve definitely heard of you. I mean, there are literally posters of you all over the house. 

Matt: Oh, right. I kinda… try to tune those out. Kudos on your acting chops, though. You actually had me going there. 

You give him a quick half-bow. 

Matt: So, I haven’t seen you around before. New in town?

Jester: Just flew in this morning, actually. Kind of hard to believe I was in Iowa less than twelve hours ago…

Matt: Time flies when you’re flying, right?

Jester: Hold up… did you just reference the theme song to Pegasus Squad?

Matt: … Maybe?

Jester: The obscure Canadian kid’s show about a gang of high schoolers who turn into magical space pilots? Because I’m like 95% certain I’m the only one who ever watched it. 

Matt: Well, you clearly weren’t the only one, because I loved it as a kid. 

Jester: Matt Rodriguez is a Pegasus Squad fanboy. You do know I’m going to blast this all over the Internet, right?

Matt: Dear god, no! Tumblr will eat me alive!

The two of you share a laugh, his eyes sparkling softly in the warm light. 

Jester: So… is there a special occasion why everyone’s hanging out here? I feel like I’m crashing the party. 

Matt: See, you’d have to be unwelcome to crash. And I’m having way too much fun talking to you for that to be the case. 

Jester: I’ll consider that my official invitation, then. 

Matt: But no, there’s no occasion. My agent lives here, and he has kind of an open-door policy. He thinks a lot of beautiful people hanging around his house all day is good for business. 

Jester: This is your agent’s house? We must have the same agent!

Matt: Well, that’s lucky. 

Jester: Yeah?

Matt: I want as many excuses to run into you as possible. Not every day you meet another Pegasus Squad fan!

Just then, a pair of voices shouts your way from the far side of the pool. 

Chris Winters: Hey, Rodriguez! C’mere, I need to settle a bet. 

Thomas Hunt: Lose a bet, you mean. 

Chris Winters: Me? Never. 

Matt: Sorry, I think that’s my cue. Hunt only gets more cranky if you make him wait. 

Jester: We wouldn’t want that. 

Matt: I’ll see you again, though, won’t I?

Jester: If you’re lucky. 

Matt flashes you one last smile and walks over to his friends. 

Jester: (Chris Winters, Thomas Hunt, and Matt Rodriguez? Am I sure I’m not still dreaming?)

You finish your drink and walk back through the house to find Chazz. You’re too fizzy with excitement to stand still any more. He’s just finished his call. 

Chazz: Perfect timing as usual. Did you like the pool?

Jester: Like it? It was stunning. But you’ve been holding out on me. 

Chazz: What?

Jester: How could you not tell me that Matt Rodriguez in your client? I’d have come out here way sooner if I’d known you could introduce me to him!

Chazz: Oh… well I… It’s not something I like to brag about. 

Jester: You have clearly changed since high school then. The Chazz I knew would have tattooed it on his forehead!

Chazz: Ha. Yeah. Listen, we… uh… should probably get going…

Jester: Why? Your house is so nice, I thought we could hang out a little longer…

Chazz: Yeah… about that… you see… I…. 

Just then a man in a perfectly tailored suit bursts into the entryway. He storms over to Chazz and sticks a finger in his chest. 

Man: Took you long enough, Chazz. I was ready to tell the police you’d stolen my Bentley. 

Chazz: Sorry, boss. You know LA traffic. 

Jester: (‘Boss’?)

Chazz’s Boss: Don’t let it happen again. Time is money, and you’ve wasted too much of mine already today.

Chazz: Yes, sir. 

Chazz’s Boss: And who’s this?

Jester: Oh, I’m… I’m Jester sir. 

Chazz’s Boss: And what are you doing in my home?

Jester: Your home?

Chazz: Jester, this is my boss, John Castle, head of Castle Agency. He was kind enough to let me borrow his car to pick you up. 

Jester: Oh, well… thank you. I appreciate it. And I’m excited to be joining the Castle team. 

John Castle: And why the ell would I want someone so hopelessly generic?

Jester: … What?

John Castle: Let me guess, Chazz told you he’d turn you into the next big thing?

Jester: Well…

John Castle: He probably didn’t tell you that he’s the most junior agent we have. We leave him in charge of… 

Castle grimaces.

John Castle: Internet stars. 

Jester: Look, I don’t know about Chazz. I just know I want to make my mark somewhere a little more… impressive. 

Chazz’s face falls. 

Chazz: … Right. 

Jester: Look. The Castle Agency’s clout can only help me, no matter who I sign with. 

John Castle: I don’t know what bus stop of 24-hour diner Chazz found you in, but I’d recommend you lower your aspirations. That, or get very used to waitressing. 

Chazz: Sir, with all due respect… you’re wrong about Jester. She’s the real deal. The next big thing. She’s going to light this town up. I know it. 

John Castle: And I know that you’re one bad day away from being fired. And getting closer by the minute. 

Mr. Castle’s phone rings. He raises a finger at the two of you and puts the phone to his ear. 

John Castle: Can you at least manage to show yourself out? Or will I have to stare at that eyesore you call a vehicle indefinitely?

Chazz: We were just leaving. Thank you again for letting me borrow your car, it was--

Castle turns on his heel and starts barking into the phone. 

John Castle: He what? For the last time, Celeste, he’s a glorified sitcom star! He doesn’t get to demand anything, much less a bigger part! You tell him that if he bothers me one more time, he’s donezo! DONE! ZO!

Castle stalks away. Defeated, Chazz leads you out to his actual car, a beat-up old clunker with a dented fender and one window covered in duct tape. 

Jester: Yikes. 

Chazz: It’s not as pretty, but I promise it still does the job. 

Jester: Right…

Chazz speeds out of the driveway, obviously eager to be away from his boss. 

Jester: So… that wasn’t your house. And that wasn’t your car. And you’re … a junior agent?

Chazz: Technically, all true. 

Jester: You lied to me?

Chazz: I prefer the term ‘tactically misled’. 

Jester: God, this is so you. It’s just like sophomore year when you promised everyone you’d get us into a college party… but the best you could do was a lecture on macroeconomics!

Chazz: I’m sorry, okay! I screwed up. 

Jester: I just don’t understand why. I’d already signed with you. What did you have to gain?

Chazz: Look… I’m not exactly living the dream out here. I sleep in a crappy apartment, my car’s a clunker, and I haven’t had a date in six months. But… when I talked to you… I just… I couldn’t bear to share that. 

Chazz lets out a long sigh. 

Chazz: I just didn’t want you to think I was a loser, Jester. Everyone else already does. 

Jester: I’ll give you one more chance. 

Chazz: Really?

Jester: Really. But you have to be honest with me from now on. I expect nothing less from my agent. 

Chazz: So… you’re not firing me?

Jester: Of course, dummy. Just don’t lie to me again, otherwise I will show your boss that photo of you during your ill-advised emo phase. 

Chazz: I promise, I won’t! Anything but that!

Before long, Chazz pulls you up in front of a run-down looking concrete building. 

Chazz: TA-DA! Welcome to your new home-sweet-home! I know, I know, it’s not exactly a mansion… but I promise you’ll love it once you get used to it. 

Jester: Do people really get used to Soviet Bloc architecture?

Chazz: Think of it this way. Maybe you could use it as motivation?

Jester: For what?

Chazz: For ‘getting enough work to move out of this craptastic apartment.’

Jester: Sounds like I’ll be studying The Method whether I like it or not, huh?

Chazz: I’ve always liked to go above and beyond for my clients. Speaking of which, I went ahead and set up a bunch of the stuff you mailed out. Nothing slows down a big Hollywood debut like unpacking, right?

Jester: Thanks, Chazz. 

Chazz pops the trunk, and helps you with your bag. He leads you up to a depressing beige door, the number half falling off, and hands you the keys. 

Chazz: Alright, I’ve gotta dash, but I’ll call you soon. And seriously, I can’t wait to work together. We’re gonna do great things. 

Jester: … Right.

You’re just heading into the building when you hear a wobbly voice from behind you. 

Old Lady: Oh my! It pours off you in waves! It’s a veritable miasma!

Jester: I’m sorry, who are you?

Old Lady: They call me… Gloria the Glittering… But you can just call me Gloria. I’m your neighbor. 

Jester: Nice to meet you, Gloria. Now what exactly was I… miasming?

Gloria: Why stardom, my dear. You glow with its mystical aura. Unless you’re oozing it. It’s rather hard to tell with auras, you know. 

Jester: An aura of stardom? That’s ridiculous. Pretty sure those auras you’re seeing are just smog. 

Gloria: The third eye is never wrong! And besides, they took care of the smog years ago. Trust me, this is stardom. 

Jester: Do you tell this to all the girls who move into the building, Gloria?

Gloria: Oh, heavens no. Only the ones who might one day thank me in an awards speech. 

Gloria whisks away in a cloud of perfume and grandiosity. Alone again, you open the door to your apartment. You walk inside, set your bags on the floor, and take a deep breath. 

Jester: I guess this is it. Maybe Chazz was hoping to provide a ‘struggling young actress’ story to tell down the line?

The apartment is definitely a bit run down, but clean and bright, with a huge window and… A live raccoon?

Jester: Dear god why?! AHHHHHHHHH!

Raccoon: SKREEEE!

The raccoon runs into an open cupboard, knocking several pots and pans over on its way. 

Jester: Great! How do I disinfect my dishes for rabies?

Just then, a man’s head pops around your open door. 

Guy: Hey, is uhh… everything alright in here?

Jester: Oh, it’s peachy. You know, except for the live raccoon in my apartment. 

Guy: Ah, so you’ve met Rocket, huh? He’s kind of a fixture around here. Back in a shortly!

He dashes out the door, reappearing a few minutes later with a giant cooler and a half-eaten bag of chips sitting on top. 

Jester: Were you planning on inviting him to a barbecue?

Guy: Only if he’s bringing the beers. 

The guy sets the cooler down nearby, pries off the lid, sprinkles some chips in the bottom, then tilts the cooler on its side. 

Guy: I figured this trick out a little while back. Works way better than flailing around wildly, which was my previous go-to. 

After a few minutes, the raccoon sneaks out, grabs a chip… then hops into the cooler for the rest! The guy slams the cooler lid over the top, tilting it upright and locking it in place with the handles in one swift motion. 

Guy: If you want me to turn him back into a prince, that’ll be an extra $20. 

Jester: I’ll pass. 

Guy: Alright, but you owe me a bag of chips. 

You follow the guy as he takes the cooler out onto the front lawn, unlocks the handles, and knocks off the top. Within minutes, the raccoon has scampered off into the nearby dumpster. 

Jester: That was amazing! I can’t thank you enough… Mysterious Stranger?

Seth: Seth. I live across the hall. 

He extends his hand. You shake it. 

Jester: I’m Jester. 

Seth: Nice to meet you. 

He squints, taking you in. 

Seth: Let me guess… Fresh out of Ohio… dreams of stardom… and a poster of Matt Rodriguez on the ceiling of your childhood bedroom?

Jester: You’ve got it all wrong. I’m from Iowa. 

Seth: Ooooh, I stand corrected! As a fellow flyover-zone transplant, let me welcome you to fair Los Angeles, City of Angels…

Jester: And home invasion by rodents!

Seth: I see you’ve already gotten the tour. 

Jester: Just the highlights. And thank you. I’m pretty sure I’d have been spending my first night in town getting a rabies vaccination without you. 

Seth: The rabies clinic is on my top-five list of greatest LA hotspots… But… if you’re looking for something closer, I know a little place that’s worth checking out… 

Jester: Oh?

Seth: Here’s the pitch… A six pack of craft beer… sparkling conversation…. And the best view in the city. What do you say?

Jester: Is that where you take all the girls you rescue from raccoons?

Seth: Nope. Just the pretty ones. 

Jester: That sounds great and all but I really need to start unpacking. Would you take a raincheck?

Seth: Sure, but only if you take some advice, Iowa. 

Jester: What’s that?

Seth: Call it a ‘suncheck.’ Didn’t you know it never rains here?

Jester: Thank goodness I have you to show me the ropes. 

A little while later… you’re busy organizing the kitchen when there’s a sudden pounding on your door!

Jester: Who’s there?

Chazz: It’s me! Open up! Open uuuuuuuup!

You open the door and Chazz rushes in, practically bouncing off the walls. 

Jester: You are a veritable miasma of energy right now. 

Chazz: I don’t know what that means, and I don’t care! I have the BEST. NEWS. EVER! I don’t know what kind of magic you worked by the pool… But you just got us both invited to Matt Rodriguez’s birthday party!

Jester: Wait, are you kidding? I thought I made a total fool of myself!

Chazz: Apparently not, because Matt specifically asked that you be there. Are you fainting? Because I’m fainting. Don’t faint, btdubs. He’ll never let me in without your gorgeousness on my arm. 

Jester: This party, it’s… a big deal?

Chazz: The biggest. VIP central. Networking nirvana. The perfect chance to make the biggest Hollywood splash. Put on your best dress, babe… We are going out in STYLE!

[badchoosey]

It Lives in the Woods. Chapter One: Old Friends

Phone: Bzzzzzzzzzzzz…

Debo: Nnnnhhh… what…

Still-half asleep, you grope around on the shelf until you find your phone…

Debo: Ugh, who’s texting me at three in the morning?

Dan - Hey, are you there? It’s Dan. I messed up. I’m so sorry…

Debo - Dan? It’s… been a while. Are you okay? What happened?

Dan - I went back into the woods. I had to be sure, I had to prove to myself that it was all in my head… But it isn’t, Debo, it’s all real. HE’S real.

Debo - Dan… are you drunk or something?

Dan - I heard him whispering, just like when we were kids.

Debo - Stop it, Dan. We made all that stuff up. Mr. Red was just a dumb kid’s game that got out of control. He doesn’t exist. He never did.

Dan - He does. He’s here with me now.

Debo - Wait… where are you?

Dan - I can hear him in the trees. I hear him whispering…

A harsh tap tap tap from the window makes you jump, dropping your phone!

Debo: AAAAHH!

A dark shape looms outside the window… Heart hammering in your chest, you fumble for the light switch. Light floods your bedroom, streaming out the window to reveal…

Debo: Dan?! What are you doing here?

Dan: Debo, can I come in?

Debo: I… I guess so. Hang on.

You move to the window and slide it open enough for Dan to climb inside.

Debo: You’ve got some explaining to do, though. First off, what the hell are you doing here? We’ve barely spoken in years… and suddenly you decide to pay me a visit at three in the morning?

Dan: I’m sorry.

Debo: Don’t apologize… just tell me what’s going on. You sounded really freaked out in your texts…

Dan: It’s nothing. I’m fine. Come on, we need to go get the others.

Debo: What others?

Dan: Our friends! Stacy, Lily, Noah, Lucas, Ava, and Andy. I’ve got something to show you, but we need to bring everyone.

Debo: Dan… I’ve barely spoken to that group since we were little kids. After what happened to Jane--

Dan: But they have to come, Debo. Everyone has to be there. That’s the rule.

Your phone buzzes again, rattling against the floorboards. Sighing, you pick it up.

Debo: Dan, I want to help you, but honestly you’re kind of freaking me out right now.  We’ve got our first day of school in, like, six hours. We can talk then, okay?

Your phone buzzes again, another notification popping up on the screen. You look down…

Dan - 3:17am - Are you still there? I think I’m lost… Debo? My battery’s almost dead, please help me!

Debo: Wait…

Dan: We have to go back to the woods, Debo.

The lights in your bedroom flicker as a chill wind sweeps through your open window. Hands trembling, you slowly look up from your phone screen.

Debo: … Dan?

A smile spreads across Dan’s shadowed face… stretching wider than it should…

Dan: Debo.

You start to back away… but Dan’s hand clamps around your wrist! You try to pull free, but he clings to you with inhuman strength!

Debo: Hey!

Panic floods your body, and you can only struggle mindlessly against Dan’s hold!

Debo: (Have to get free! Have to--)

Dan throws you to the floor, pinning your back against the rough boards!

Dan: We all have to go back. Don’t you remember?

Debo: Get off me!

You claw at Dan… and his flesh crumbles beneath your fingernails! Dan leans in, his cold breath stinking of moldy dirt and blood…

Dan: Everyone plays together, Debo…

The creature’s hands tighten around your throat… Your vision begins to blur, shadows seeming to writhe and bleed in the dark room….

Debo: Hrrnnngggg…

You have no breath left to scream. You simply sink, paralyzed by terror, into a cold, black nothingness…

…

Debo: AAAAAHHH!

You jerk into wakefulness, adrenaline burning in your veins as you thrash against your attacker… until you realize that you’re alone in your room.

Debo: The hell…? What a messed up dream.

Reaching up to feel your neck… you flinch as your fingers brush the fresh bruises there…

Debo: What the--?! No way… this can’t be happening…

You grab your phone to look at the texts from last night… only to discover that the battery is dead.

Debo: Crap…

Sighing, you toss your phone into your school bag and turn to your closet.

Debo: Guess I’d better get ready for school. Need to look good for my first day of senior year…

Grabbing your school bag, you hurry downstairs… Outside, you cast a nervous glance toward the woods that border the edge of your yard…

Debo: Mr. Red… Dan couldn’t have seen him… that was all just make-believe.

As you descend the steps, a friendly voice calls out from the yard next door.

Cid: Morning, neighbor!

Debo: Oh hey, Cid. What’s up?

Cid: Just coming back from our walk. Hey, Hilda, look who it is!

A blur of black and white fur crashes out of the bushes, looking around excitedly.

Hilda: Wuff!

Hilda bounds over to you, her bushy tail waving like a flag!

Debo: Hi, girl!

Hilda: Arrrooooo!

Debo: Aww! Good to see you too, cutie!

Hilda flops on her back, wriggling happily as you rub her belly.

Cid: Your parents around? I didn’t see ‘em out and about this morning.

Debo: Yeah, they’re still overseas dealing with my great aunt’s estate or whatever. They’ll be back in a couple weeks.

Cid: Hell, that’s a long time for a kid to be by themselves, ‘specially in a big house like that.

Debo: Yeah, well I can take care of myself. I just turned eighteen, you know. I can do my own laundry and everything. I’m getting pretty good at mac and cheese, too. I’ve only set off the smoke alarm like… three times this week.

Cid: Aw, they grow up so fast.

Cid suddenly cocks his head, taking a few steps toward your house and crouching down beside a small pile of loose dirt.

Cid: Huh, wonder what this is…

Cid picks something out of the pile and holds it up… a glossy black stone carved with a strange rune.

Cid: This yours?

Debo: Weird…

The stone is surprisingly heavy in your hand. You move your thumb along the deep crack that runs through the center of the engraved rune.

Debo: I wonder where this came from… and what broke it.

Cid: Beats me. Looks like a paperweight or somethin’.

Brushing away some of the dirt from the stone, you freeze as a familiar smell wafts into your nose… cold earth and a hint of blood…

Debi: It smells like that thing that--

You stop yourself, glancing nervously at Cid.

Cid: Smells like what?

Debo: Uh… weird. It just smells kinda weird.

Cid nods, dusting off his hands.

Cid: Well, I’ll let you get to school. You just let me know if you need anything, alright? My door’s always open.

Debo: Will do. Thanks, Cid.

Cid whistles, and HIlda jumps up to follow him. Once they’re out of sight, you look down at the stone in your hand.

Debo: (If what I saw last night was real, this could be a clue… Better keep it somewhere safe.)

It takes a few tries for you to open the shed door, its rusted hinges screeching with every shove.

Debo: Jeez, when’s the last time someone was in here?

Cobwebs tickle your face as you approach the worktable, setting the cracked stone down on its dusty surface.

Debo: I bet I could fit all kinds of stuff in here…

Flicking off the light, you step back out into the yard, shutting the shed door behind you… A few minutes later, on the asphalt road that runs along the edge of the woods, you hear a car approaching from behind. Stepping to the side, you glance up, locking eyes with the driver of a black vintage Camaro.

Debo: (That guy looks familiar…)

The car slows to a stop, and the driver leans out through the open window.

???: Hey, do I know you from somewhere?

Debo: I think so. I was just wondering the same thing… do you go to Westchester High?

???: Not anymore, thank god. Left that hellhold behind a couple years ago.

Debo: Lucky you.

???: Hang in there, you’ll be out before you know it. Anyway, I’d better get to work. Catch you later.

He steps on the gas, and the car starts to pull away.

Debo: Oh! I never got your…

But he’s already too far away to hear, disappearing around a bend in the road.

Debo: ... name.

Shrugging, you continue your long walk toward school.

A thin crowd of students trickles across the front yard of your school, waving and calling out to friends as they converge on the front doors. Squeezing through the loud, crowded hall, you find a familiar girl standing at the locker next to yours…

Debo: Oh! Hey, Ava.

Ava: ‘Sup.

Debo: Not much… that hasn’t always been your locker, has it? I’ve never seen you using it before.

Ava: Got reassigned.

Ava kicks the locker shut and shrugs her bag onto her shoulder.

Ava: Oh look, it’s Lily.

Following Ava’s gaze, you see a nervous girl clutching a textbook to her chest.

Lily: Um… hi, guys.

Debo: Hi, Lily. It’s been a while. You excited for classes?

Lily: I guess… I’m a little worried about my art class.

Debo: Really? Don’t you have like… a 4.5 GPA?

Lily: But art has no objective rubric for success! How will I know if I’m doing it right?

Lily glances over furtively, lowering her voice.

Lily: There’s, um, there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about…

Debo: Sure, what’s up?

Lily: I got some really weird texts last night. Did you…?

Lily trails off, looking over your shoulder. You turn to see a pretty girl walking by, chatting with two friends.

Britney: Oh my god, look. I’ve been ghosting this guy for like, two solid weeks, and he just asked me out for coffee again.

Ava: Oh boy. Just when you think high school might not be the sucking necrotic chest wound that you remember…

The guy next to Britney laughs, running one hand through his hair.

Cody: Yikes. Desperate is not a good look.

Jocelyn: Maybe he’s just not scared of ghosts? You could try clowns instead. Clowns are gross.

Britney: That’s not… Joss, do you even know what--

Lily: H-hi, Britney!

The group stops in their tracks, and Britney turns to give Lily an appraising look.

Britney: Wow, Lil, great sweater. I didn’t know Baby Bar had a quadruple-XL section.

Lily: I… I just wanted to say hello…

Britney: And I just wanted a red Ferrari for my birthday, but I’ll settle for not having to listen to your whiny voice anymore.

You turn your back on Britney, giving Lily a big smile.

Debo: Lily, I’m super jealous of your sweater. That fox is freakin’ adorable.

Britney: Excuse you, but nobody asked for--

You continue to ignore her, focusing on your conversation with Lily.

Debo: Lily, you wanna take me shopping sometime? I need some sweaters that aren’t from my grandma’s tacky holiday collection.

Lily: I… I’d love to!

Lily looks down at the floor, holding a small smile.

Jocelyn: Oh yeah? Well--

Ava: Shhhh… witty comebacks aren’t your strong suit, Track and Field Barbie.

Jocelyn: Cross Country.

Ava: I know. I used the wrong one on purpose to piss you off. Try to keep up.

Cody: How about you go haunt some other hallway, freak?

Ava gives Cody a long, ponderous look… then reaches up to pluck a stray hair from his shoulder.

Ava: You know, I keep meaning to try out this new curse I found on the internet. If you feel a burning sensation in your eyeballs, that’s normal.

Cody: The hell…

Waggling her fingers, Ava stalks away down the hallway.

Ava: Later, guys.

Debo: Later…

Lily: Bye, Ava.

Jocelyn: Ewwwwww, Cody! What’s gonna happen to your eyeballs?!

Britney: Chill, Jocelyn. That weirdo just reads too many vampire novels. With any luck she’ll flunk and go live in a dirty old shack like Pritch the Witch.

Jocelyn: She is just like Pritch the Witch. We should call her, uh… ‘Ava the Witch’! Hahahahahaha!

Cody: … Wow. Good one, Joss.

You shake your head, turning to grab a notebook from your locker.

Debo: Well, lovely as this has been, we should probably go--

Jocelyn: Oh. My. God. Is that a hickey?!

Jocelyn reaches up, poking the fresh bruises on the side of your neck.

Debo: Ow! Get off!

Cody: Yeah right, like anyone would want to chew on this social reject.

Debo: It’s none of your damn business.

Cody: Rawr! Someone’s crabby this morning. You on your period or something?

Debo: I think you just have that effect on people.

Britney: Whatever. Fascinating as this convo is, I need to go get ready for the pep rally.

Britney jerks her head, and the others follow. Jocelyn shoulder-checks you as she walks by, knocking you hard against a locker.

Debo: Ow!

Lily: Hey!

Jocelyn: See you around, Debo.

Wincing, you rub your shoulder where it slammed against the locker, glaring after the bullies.

Debo: This school year’s already off to a great start, huh?

Lily: Should we report them to the office, or…?

Debo: Sure, millionth time’s the charm, right? Maybe this time they’ll actually get in trouble.

Lily smiles ruefully as the two of you join the crowd of students shuffling toward the gym. Music blares over the gym speakers, and a rush of panic hits as you’re jostled by the crowd, your mind flashing back to the night before…

Lily: Debo? Are you okay?

Debo: Y-yeah. Just, uh, kinda crowded in here. You see anywhere to sit?

Lily: Not really… looks like there are a couple seats up there next to… Oh… never mind. That’s Ava’s spot.

In the top row of the bleachers, Ava sits scribbling in a worn sketchbook. As you watch, a couple of freshmen move to sit beside her…

Ava: HISSSSSSSSSSS…

The freshmen trip over themselves, scrambling to get away from Ava. She glares after them… then notices you watching her. Ava nods to the empty bench.

Debo: Is… she inviting me to sit by her?

Lily: I think she is!

Debo: (Maybe I could talk with Ava about what happened last night. She knows about all kinds of supernatural stuff… It’d be nice to tell someone who’d actually believe me…)

I… think I’d rather sit somewhere else.

Lily: Okay, um… I there there’s a spot over there by Mr. Cooper? Doesn’t look like there’s room for both of us, though.

Debo: You go ahead, I’ll find a spot somewhere.

Lily: Okay, if you’re sure… Oh, and thanks for your help earlier.

Debo: Anytime. See you later, Lily.

You keep moving, finally spotting one empty seat… right next to a familiar figure slouching in the second row…

Debo: Oh, crap… Noah…

You quickly turn around, desperately scanning the crowd for another open seat, any seat but that one… but there aren’t any. You consider trying to sneak back out the gym doors, until someone shouts at you from a few rows up.

Cody: Hey, Debo! Sit your stupid ass down, unless you wanna watch from the garbage can!

Debo: I…

Jocelyn: Hello? You’re blocking our view, and there’s a spot right there.

Wincing, you turn back around to see Noah looking right at you.

Debo: Hey, Noah. Do you mind if…?

Noah: Knock yourself out.

Noah scoots over, and you squeeze in beside him.

Debo: So… what’s been up with you? We haven’t really talked since…

Noah: Yeah… I know.

You sit, neither of you saying another word. Down on the floor of the gym, a tall, handsome guy with glasses walks up to a podium…

Lucas: How you doing, Westchester High?

The students roar in response! The bleachers rumble and shake as the crowd pounds their feet on the wood.

Debo: Whoa… When did Lucas get so popular?

Noah: Shortly after hitting six feet and discovering hair gel, shortly before getting elected student body president.

Lucas waves to the cheering crowd, flashing a smile.

Lucas: Welcome back, everyone! For anyone who doesn’t know me already, I’m Lucas Thomas, your student body president. I know everyone’s a little salty summer is over, but trust me… this is going to be one school year you’ll never forget. And on that note, let’s kick this pep rally off, Westchester Wolf style!

At Lucas’ signal, several cheerleaders jump up from the bleachers, bouncing and waving their pom poms in the air!

Stacy: You can do better than that! Let’s hear it!

Debo: Looks like Stacy’s doing pretty well too…

One by one, the cheerleaders tumble across the gym. Stacy draws thunderous cheers as she pulls off an effortless roundoff into a backflip!

Debo: Whoa! That’s incredible!

Noah: Yay. Go team.

Beaming, Stacy looks back at the rest of the cheer squad, her smile suddenly fading as she locks eyes with Britney… Stacy turns… and suddenly trips over her own feet, sprawling on her face!

Stacy: Aaahhh!

Debo: Stacy!

You jump to your feet, hurrying to help Stacy up.

Debo: Are you okay? What happened?

Stacy: Nothing… I’m just a klutz, I guess.

Debo: I think it’s kinda cute. Like a clumsy anime heroine. Everyone loves them, right?

Stacy: Right now I just feel like an embarrassment to the squad.

Jocelyn: Hahahahaha! Did you see that? She was all like, WHAM, ‘Aaaaaahhh!’

Cody: Please tell me the school news nerds got that on camera.

Blushing, Stacy rejoins the rest of the squad. You sit back down as, at the other end of the gym, Britney steps forward with a smug smile.

Britney: Check this out…

Britney takes three running steps, then flies into a no-handed cartwheel! The crowd roars as she sticks the landing!

Debo: ugh. Why do people like her so much? They’ve got to know how horrible she is.

Noah: And? She’s hot and can do flips. We can’t compete with that.

Lucas grins from the podium as the cheerleaders return to their seats.

Lucas: Well, now that the cheer squad is done totally blowing our minds… let’s give it up for the Westchester Wolves basketball team!

More applause sounds as a group of guys in basketball jerseys forms up in front of the podium.

Ben: Awooooooooooo!

Andy: Yeah! Go Wolves!

Noah: Huh, Andy actually made the team this year.

Debo: Good for him! Looks like he’s been working hard! I can’t wait to see him play!

You flinch as Cody’s voice breaks through the general applause.

Cody: Watch out, it’s the TRIPLE THREEEEAAAAAAT!

Andy’s head snaps in the direction of Cody’s voice, his face suddenly twisting with anger.

Andy: Hey! Why don’t you come down here and--

He takes one steps toward the bleachers, but stops himself as Lucas calls the team captain up to the podium.

Ben: Thanks, Lucas. What up, Westchester High?

The crowd whoops and stomps in response!

Ben: We’ve got our first game coming up in a couple days, so you guys had better be here to watch us crush it. Not gonna lie, we’ve got a couple rookies on the team this year, but I’m not gonna let that stop--

Ben pauses as the gym lights suddenly flicker!

Ben: Huh?

Debo: Oh no…

Lucas’ voice calls out over the speakers, drowning out the nervous chatter of the students.

Lucas: Everyone, stay seated! We don’t want anyone to fall from the--ksssshhhhhhkkkk!

A burst of static cuts him off, and the music stutters, fading in and out. With a loud BANG, the gym doors are blown open by a frigid gust of wind…

The lights flicker back on, and you nearly jump out of your seat as Noah suddenly grabs your arm.

Debo: Gah! What are you--

Noah: Shut up! Do you hear that?!

Debo: Hear what?

Noah: Ssssssshhhhhhhhh!

And you do hear it…. Just barely on the edge of your perception, you hear a sound that snatches all the breath from your body and leaves you cold.

Debo: No… Not here…

You look around, picking out the faces of your former friends…

Andy: What the…

Lucas: This can’t be!

Lily: N-no way…

Stacy: Oh my god…

Ava: Oh f--

The music sputters and dies as the lights shut off completely, leaving only the voice. A voice that is at once completely alien… and horrifyingly familiar.

Voice: Everyone… plays… together...

[badchoosey]

High School Story, Book One. Chapter 1: The First Day

You arrive at Oliver M. Berry High School a few minutes before school is set to start and spot a few students rushing by.

Julian: I can’t believe we’re finally starting our senior year! This is gonna be LIT!

Nishan: I know! AP Calculus is going to be epic!

Payton: And homecoming is just around the corner. Speaking of which… I’d better find a date!

Mia: Yeah. I’m not buying it. Knowing you, you’ve got a list of guys all ready to go.

Payton: A lady never tells…

Joints: (They all seem so cool… But… they’re obviously all good friends already. It’s not like I can just run up to them and say, ‘Hi, I’m Joints, and I just moved here. Be my friend!’)

You pass by the students and walk into an interior courtyard.

Autumn: Hey, you must be new! I love your look! Can I take a photo of you next to the tiger statue? It’s for the yearbook.

Joints: I… uh… I guess so!

Autumn: Awesome. This is going to look perfect in the yearbook! Bye for now.

Joints: (Say something, Joints! Don’t just let her walk away.)

She walks away.

Joints: (Come on, Joints! This isn’t like you! You’ve been the new kid at school before. This should be no big deal!)

Voice: Hey… you okay? You look a little like a deer in the headlights.

You turn around to see a blonde girl smiling at you.

Joints: Are you hitting on me?

Emma: What? No… I… I wouldn’t do that!

Emma blushes a deep crimson.

Joints: Aw, sorry. I take it back. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, I swear.

Emma: I just thought maybe you were lost. Anyway, I was wondering if maybe you could use a friend.

Joints: Heh. I guess I could. This place is like fifty percent amazing, fifty percent completely overwhelming. I don’t even know where my room is. 225B? How many rooms does this place have?

Emma: Wait… That’s my homeroom, too! Come with me. Wouldn’t want you to be late on your first day!

You and Emma make your way through the bustling school hallways toward your classroom.

Emma: Here it is!

You enter to find most of the seats occupied.

Sydney: Yay! I got my favorite chair.

The only seats left are a few at the very front and two at the very back.

Emma: Let’s grab those ones at the ba--

Before she can finish her sentence, a girl rushes past you and flops into one of the seats.

Morgan; You snooze you lose. This one’s mine. And that one is Michael’s.

A guy following her tries to get by but accidentally bumps into you.

Michael: Like what you see?

Joints: I wasn’t…

Michael: No worries. Sorry I bumped into you. Just trying to get to my seat.

Joints: Your seat? Excuse me? I didn’t see your name on it.

Michael: You sure about that?

He gestures over to the seat, where someone has carved ‘MICHAEL’ with a knife.

Joints: Touche.

As Michael takes his seat, you turn back to Emma.

Joints: Looks like it’s the front row for us.

Emma: I… I can’t sit there!

Joints: Don’t worry. It’s not so bad… I mean, sure, you might get called on a little more often.

Emma: It’s not that. It’s just… I can’t sit next to Caleb.

Your gaze shifts over to take in a guy with a huge smile talking with his friends in the front row.

Joints: Oh, that guy? He’s meh.

Emma: Oh… I just meant… I mean… I think he’s--

Joints: Oh… you mean… you like him?

Emma: Not so loud! Caleb is… out of my league. He’s the school’s star wide receiver. And super nice. And funny. And handsome…

Joints: So, golden football god. Got it.

Emma: Just… you take the seat next to him, okay? Give me a buffer.

You sit down, and Caleb turns to you, smiling wide.

Caleb: You must be new! Welcome to Berry High. I’m Caleb.

Joints: Hi Caleb, I’m your next girlfriend!

Caleb: Wow. I’m flattered… But… don’t let my girlfriend here you say that.

Joints: Girlfriend? I didn’t realise that you--

You’re interrupted as the guy sitting behind you looks up from his phone and groans.

Brian: Bro, are you still talking about Zoe? You are way too hung up on that chick. I mean, yeah. She’s hot. Like, super hot. But you talk about her like she’s your wife or something. And wives are just… boring.

Caleb: Buddy, one day you’ll fall in love. And you’ll realise that being boring can be the greatest thing in the world.

Brian: You sound like my mom. And she’s the uncoolest person I know.

Joints: Wow.

Brian: You got something you want to say to me?

Joints: What made you this way?

Brian: What made me this way? Great genes and three hours a day in the weight room.

Joints: I wasn’t trying to compliment you.

Brian: Yep. I picked up on that. When losers insult me, I generally just ignore them. In the end… it only hurts you. Example: I was about to invite you to my awesome party. Now I’m not gonna. Sucks for you.

Emma: Why are you so… mean?

Brian: What are you talking about? I’m the one who everyone keeps insulting! FYI, you’re not invited either, blondie. But that was probably obvious.

Emma: Right… of course…

Emma stands up and starts walking for the door… just as the teacher walks in.

Ms. Maddox: In case you didn’t notice, Emma, class is about to start.

Emma: I… I’ll be back in a minute.

She runs out the door.

Brian: That. Was. Hilarious. Please tell me someone got that on video!

Caleb: You don’t have to be such a jerk all the time, you know.

Brian: Dude… come on. It was funny.

Ms. Maddox meets your eye… and then casually drops a hall pass on your desk.

Ms. Maddox: Seems like maybe someone should go check on her…

Joints: Thanks, but she’ll be fine on her own…

You stay put in your seat.

Ms. Maddox: I see…

Ms. Maddox takes back the hall pass and walks away.

Caleb: She’s gonna be okay, right?

Joints: Yeah… definitely.

After class, you join the rest of the student body at a welcome assembly in the main gym, where you take a seat next to Emma.

Joints: You doing okay?

Emma: Oh… yeah! Of course.

Joints: Good…

Suddenly a fanfare plays, and a woman dressed in brightly colored clothes runs into the auditorium.

Principle Hughs: Welcome, children, to your first day of school! Er… I mean, not your first day of school ever. Sorry! I’ve just moved here from Berry Elementary School, so this is a new environment for me. Wow. You are all so big!

For a moment, she looks slightly panicked. Her eyes search the crowd… and then lock with yours. You look super angry and on seeing your face, Principal Hughs looks even more panicked.

Principle Hughs: I… I… No one ever said high schoolers would be so unpredictable.

Suddenly, you hear a voice shout out from the crowd.

Caleb: You got this, Principal Hughs! Tell us what you want to say.

Hearing Caleb’s voice, the principal regains her composure.

Principal Hughs: Ah. That’s better. Now what was I saying? I may be new… but you were all new to this place once. And that’s the wonderful thing about a fresh start. You get to be anybody you want to be. So… welcome to kindergar-- er, I mean, high school!

Emma: That was… actually kind of sweet.

Joints: Yeah… now I feel kind of bad for making a face at her.

Emma: Don’t worry. It looks like no harm done. And the fact that you regret it means you’re not totally evil.

Joints: If you say so.

As you leave the assembly, a prim girl with a notebook runs up to you and Emma.

Emma: Eek!

Joints: Oh… Hey cutie.

Maria: Uh, what?

Joints: I think what I said was pretty clear. You’re cute!

Maria: Right. Moving on. As your school president, and chair of the Homecoming Planning Committee, I’m here to ask a few survey questions! First question… Are you currently planning to attend the Homecoming Dance?

Joints: I’ll think about it.

Maria: That doesn’t answer my question. Is it yes or no?

Joints: It’s a ‘maybe’.

Maria: How am I supposed to plan a dance if everyone at this school might come to it? Should I buy ten gallons of punch or fifty? A single bag of Doritos or a thousand?

Emma: Probably not a thousand…

Maria: It was a rhetorical question!

Emma: Sorry…

Maria: Forget it. I’ve wasted enough time talking to you already.

Maria storms off.

Emma: That girl seemed stressed.

Joints: Yeah. Or maybe just hangry. You know. Hungry plus angry? Speaking of which… lunchtime. Let’s go!

You arrive in the bustling cafeteria and stare wide-eyed at the sea of humanity standing before you. At the far end of the cafeteria Caleb and the football players are hanging out.

Julian: I’m serious Caleb. Keep working at it, and I honestly think you’ll be the best player this school has ever seen.

Caleb: That means a lot coming from you, man. You’re like a football god around here.

Brian: Uh, aren’t you forgetting about someone, Julian?

Julian: Don’t get me wrong, Brian. You’re a great QB. But no one matches Caleb’s work ethic.

Brian: I could out hustle both of you any day!

A few musicians from the school band are finishing lunch closer by.

Aiden: I’ve got a few new songs we might want to consider for the next halftime show… There��s, ‘The Wonderful Widow of Eighteen Springs’ by John Cage… or how about ‘The Gadfly Suite’ by Shostakovich?

Ezra: Those sound pretty obscure.

Aiden: You haven’t even listened to them yet!

Ezra: Exactly. If I don’t recognize them, no one else will either.

And the cheerleaders stand nearby.

Payton: Let’s eat quick so we head out to the field and practise our routine!

Sydney: Ooh! Can I do the aerials this time?

Mia: We’ll see…

Emma: So many people! I might need to take a little ‘me’ time, but you should totally get to know some of them. This is your big chance to make a first impression. Go for it.

You approach the band. As you do, you get a closer look at a guy in a black sweater. For a moment, you stand speechless as the band members argue amongst themselves.

Aiden: How can someone self-taught be so conservative? You should be the bold one.

Ezra: That’s funny. I was just about to ask how someone classically trained could be so eager to change things up.

Myra: Let’s keep it civil. This is real life, boys, not a Reddit thread! Besides, it’s just a song.

Aiden: Just a song?!

Ezra: For once, I agree with Aiden. We’re talking about the soul of the marching band here!

Joints: Uh… hi.

Everyone turns their gaze to you, and the conversation goes dead.

Aiden: Welcome… are you a musician? Wait. Don’t tell me. Give me your hand.

Joints: Uh… no way!

Aiden: Apologies. I didn’t mean to offend. I… thought that perhaps if I examined your callouses…

Joints: Got it. But I think just asking me was the better option.

Aiden: You’re right. Next time I’ll stick with my first instinct. Please tell me you play the saxophone.

Myra: We really, really need a sax player.

Joints: Saxophones suck.

Aiden: That’s literally the opposite of how saxophones work.

Joints: It was a metaphor.

Aiden: Understood. However, it’s my opinion that an instrument is only as good or bad as the person who plays it.

Joints: So… you’re saying… I suck?

Aiden: Your words, not mine. Of course, you could prove me wrong…

Aiden: You should totally come to the band room and play with us.

Joints: I… I’m not sure about that.

Aiden: Ezra is asking you… I’m telling you. Come with us.

Joints: Not today.

Aiden: Disappointing.

Ezra: If you ever change your mind, you know where to find us.

Later, as you leave school, you bump into Caleb and Emma, who are chatting by the curb.

Caleb: … And I just wanted to say, I’m sorry about Brian. He’s got… a weird sense of humor.

Emma: Yeah… definitely.

Caleb turns toward you.

Caleb: Same goes for you, Joints. I mean… he and I have been friends forever. But sometimes, it gets old, apologizing for him.

Joints: In that case, maybe you should get better friends.

Caleb: He’s been my best bud since elementary school. I don’t agree with the way he acts sometimes, but I can’t just unfriend him. That’s not me.

Joints: I guess loyalty counts for something.

Caleb: To me, loyalty counts for everything.

Just then, a sports jeep pulls up to the curb. The driver hops out and throws her arms around Caleb, planting a kiss on his lips.

Zoe: There you are! Come on. You owe me an early dinner before we hit this party.

Caleb: I was just finishing a conversation with--

Zoe: Would you seriously rather sit around chatting with these two losers, instead of taking me on a date? You promised me.

Caleb: I know. I know.

Zoe: Now come on! We’d better eat fast. I’m going to need at least an hour and a half to get ready for Brian’s party.

Caleb: See you guys later…

A few seconds later, the jeep pulls out, leaving you and Emma alone on the curb.

Emma: Can you believe her?

Joints: I know! She’s so hot!

Emma: Yeah… she’s gorgeous. There’s no way someone like me could ever compete with her.

Joints: Whoa, whoa. That’s not what I said! Sure, Zoe is hot… but that’s not everything.

Emma: It sure seems to matter to most guys… Face it. Nice girls finish last.

Joints: In that case… maybe you need to get a little bad.

Emma: What are you suggesting?

Joints: I’m saying who cares that we didn’t get invited to Brian’s party? We’re crashing it… together!

[badchoosey]

Hero, Vol.1 - Chapter One: The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

You soar over the ruins of Northbridge and touch down amidst the wreckage of shattered skyscrapers.

Alert: Where are you?! Come and face me!

A figure rises out of the smoke and fire, wreathed in chaotic energy.

Voice: I’m not hiding. You’re the one who’s hiding. You’ve been hiding all your life.

Alert: Time to shut you up!

Voice: How can you possibly hope to defeat me when you don’t even understand what you truly are? You haven’t even begun to comprehend the power within you.

Alert: Maybe so… but I know enough to finish this.

Voice: No, this is not the end… soon you’ll realize that this is only the beginning!

Six months earlier…

Your sleepy eyes focus on the time, after shutting your buzzing alarm off.

Alert: I’m late! I am very, very late!

You leap out of bed and throw open your closet doors.

Alert: This could be the biggest day of my career… I need to look great…

You rummage around in your closet and settle on a basic blue number.

Alert: That’ll do, I guess…

Dressed for work, you leave your apartment and sprint to the train station.

Alert: C’mon… don’t leave without me!

Just as you reach the platform, the train doors close shut--

Alert: No! No! Wait!

You watch helplessly as the train barrels away from the station, leaving you behind.

Alert: Of all the days to be late to work, why did it have to be today?

After waiting around for the next train, you finally arrive at Prescott Industries. The tall, glass skyscraper gleams brightly in the morning sun. As you walk toward the building, you hear someone call your name. You turn around to see Poppy Patel hurrying toward you with two iced lattes.

Poppy: Alert! Wait up!

Alert: Poppy? What are you doing here?

Poppy: Bringing you an iced latte to kickstart your big day, of course! You’re gonna need it now that you’re in charge of planning the biggest social event of the season! Speaking of which… you didn’t happen to snag your favorite person in the whole world an invite, did you? You said last week that you would try to get me in to the big gala at Prescott Industries tonight.

Alert: So, this latte comes with a few strings attached, huh?

Poppy: No! Well, maybe a little bit… but you will try to get me in, won’t you? All the best and brightest and most fashionable people in Northbridge will be there. When Prescott Industries unveils a new technology, that’s major.

Alert: Not just major. Silas Prescott said his new invention would ‘change the world as we know it’...

Poppy: And… what is it?

Alert: No clue. I work for Grayson Prescott, not his father, remember? I’m dying to know what the invention is just like everybody else.

Poppy: Speaking of Grayson, the handsome, charming heir apparent… You could ask him to invite me, couldn’t you? I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to his favorite executive assistant! If I can get the inside scoop on the gala, I’ll be a shoo-in for the promotion to Motif’s Senior Fashion Editor. I neeeeed this, Alert.

Alert: I know, I know, Poppy. This is a big opportunity for me, too.

Poppy: Then get in there, do the best job you possibly can with the gala preparations, and Grayson will be so impressed he won’t say no to you! I promise I’ll find some way to pay you back.

Alert: You’re so gonna owe me. Like we’re not just talking one favor here. I’m thinking three at least, maybe as many as five.

Poppy: Ugh, why do I feel like I’m making a deal with the devil?

Alert: Hey, those are the terms. Take it or leave it!

Poppy: All right, all right… I hereby sign my soul over. Just… don’t forget to ask him, okay?

Alert: I promise I won’t. Now, I really should get to work. I’m late enough as it is… and so are you!

Poppy: Oh, don’t be silly. Being fashionably late is all part of the job!

You push through the glass doors and into the lobby of Prescott Industries, where Grayson Prescott confidently directs the gala preparations.

Grayson: Bring those tables through here. We’ll want to give our guests the best possible view at tonight’s unveiling…

Grayson turns and notices you enter.

Grayson: Alert, there you are! Just in the nick of time…

Alert: Sorry I’m late… somehow I managed to miss my train again.

Grayson: It’s all right. You’re here now.

Alert: I am. So, how are the gala preparations going, Mr. Prescott?

Grayson: Please, Alert, Mr. Prescott is my father. Call me Grayson. We did go to school together, after all.

Alert: All right, Grayson. Actually, I was hoping I could ask you something--

Just then, Marjorie Miles, Director of Operations, marches over, her eyes narrowed behind her thick-framed glasses.

Marjorie Miles: Hmph. About time you showed up, Alert.

Alert: It’s only a quarter past--

Marjorie Miles: Exactly. A quarter past the time you were supposed to be here. In other words, late. As for you, Grayson, your father wants a word. It sounded urgent.

Grayson: Thanks for letting me know. Alert, can you handle this on your own?

Alert: Uh… I think so?

Marjorie Miles: Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t screw anything up too badly.

Grayson: I’m sure she won’t. See you later, Alert.

Alert: Good luck!

At Grayson heads for the elevators, Marjorie turns to look at you, her expression impatient.

Marjorie Miles: Tonight could be the most important night in this company’s history. Do you understand what that means, Alert? It means that it’s also the most important night of your otherwise unremarkable life. So, are you finally ready to do your job and help me?

Alert: Why don’t you try asking nicely?

Marjorie Miles: Okay, Alert… your choice. Do you want to tell Grayson that things here are going splendidly…. Or do you want to tell him your bullheaded unwillingness to assist me killed the mayor?

Alert: I feel like this escalated quickly…

Marjorie Miles: Two words: shell fish--

Alert: Technically, that’s one word, not--

Marjorie Miles: Shellfish allergy. The Mayor’s office waited until this morning to let me know that the Mayor is allergic to shellfish. In other words, we can’t serve the thirty pounds of ceviche de camaron we already paid for!

Alert: Okay, that’s a real problem. What can I do to help?

Marjorie Miles: I need you to call around and find something… not embarrassing to serve for an appetizer at the gala tonight. Do you think you can stop swiping or Pictalking or whatever you millenials do long enough to accomplish one task?

Alert: … Yes, I can do that.

You pull your laptop from your bag and start searching for caterers…

Fifteen minutes later…

Marjorie Miles: Well?

Alert: Let’s order tacos.

Marjorie Miles: Tacos?

Alert: It’ll be fun! We can hire a taco truck and let everyone build their own!

Marjorie Miles: Hmm… I suppose it would be memorable. Since you managed to produce a halfway-decent idea for the appetizer, what do you think we should do with all this ceviche?

Alert: I think we should dump it. Northbridge Bay probably has worse things in it. Besides it’s sort of like we’re putting it back where it came from?

Marjorie Miles: I’m not sure I follow your logic there, but… sure. If we can’t serve it, we may as well get rid of it. I’ll get some of our drivers on that ASAP. Congratulations on not screwing this up, Alert. Keep it up, and you might even be considered semi-competent someday.

Alert: I can’t wait.

Marjorie Miles: I’ll continue handling things here. In the meantime, I need you to check in with Dax in Engineering and Santiago in Security. Report back to Grayson once you’ve confirmed they’re ready.

Alert: Okay, got it.

Marjorie Miles: Then why are you still standing here? Chop chop!

A few minutes later, you step into the Engineering Lab to find it seemingly empty.

Alert: … Hello? Dax? Anybody here?

At the far end of the room, a curtain hides an enormous something from view…

Alert: (That must be the new technology Prescott Industries is unveiling at the gala tonight!)

As you step deeper into the lab, the floor beneath your feet begins to tremble gently.

Alert: (It’s supposed to be a secret, but Dax probably wouldn’t mind if I took a peek. I think…)

As you step toward the curtain, the trembling in the floor ramps up in intensity.

Alert: (What the…?)

Just them Dax Darcisse slides out from beneath a nearby computer console, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead.

Dax: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing, Alert?! You can’t just go touching things in here… for all you know, that could be highly radioactive!

Alert: Is it?!

You quickly retreat away from the curtain.

Dax: No, it’s not radioactive. But it could be, because… science! And besides, I’m still working the kinks out… I thought everything was fine, but somehow the XD917 crystalline array just activated all on its own.

Alert: Crystalline what-now…?

Dax: Um, did I say that? I meant ‘classified’. ‘Redacted’. ‘Under NDA’. ‘Bleep’!

Alert: Right. A secret. Anyway… Marjorie asked me to check on preparations for the unveiling tonight. Will you be ready?

Dax inspects the data visualizations streaming on a nearby console.

Dax: Huh, weird… things seem fine now… I’ve literally never seen that happen before. You’re not carrying any raw promethium around, are you?

Alert: Uh… not that I know of?

Dax: Yeah, didn’t think so. That is very, very strange. I’m going to run through the system diagnostics once more to be sure… but yeah. All systems green. As much as I understand it, anyway… only Silas knows what it’s supposed to do when the power’s turned on!

Alert: Wait, seriously?

Dax: Yep, I’m as stoked for the big reveal tonight as you are!

Alert: Okay…

You start toward the door and then turn back…

Alert: Actually, Dax, there’s one more thing…

Dax: Sure, what’s up?

Alert: I thought you might want to know there’s a chance that Poppy is coming to the gala tonight.

Dax: Oh, uh, really? Why would I want to know that?

Alert: You tell me. I was definitely getting a vibe when the three of us went out for drinks last week…

Dax: A vibe? What kind of vibe? From her or from me? I’m confused.

Alert: Yeah, I can see that.

Dax: I mean… she could never be interested in me like that… Could she?

Alert: Only one way to find out. Although I technically haven’t asked Grayson if I can invite her yet…

Dax: Well, just let me know, I guess… or don’t. Either way. Unrelated topic - should I wear anything special? What do you think about cologne? I mean, I don’t own any cologne. But I’ve got access to lots of chemicals. I could probably whip something up…

Alert: … What about the diagnostic?

Dax: Yes! Diagnostic! Top priority!

Alert: Exactly. See you later, Dax.

You head to the chief of security’s office, where Santiago Lupo eyes a row of security monitors. One has been tuned to the local news.

News: --string of brazen daylight robberies that have plagued the Northbridge jewelry district--

Santiago smiles as you walk over.

Santiago: Morning, Alert. You hear about all these armed robberies?

Alert: Sorry, I don’t really watch the news…

Santiago: Why not?

Alert: Too depressing. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life.

Santiago: Well, sure, but just because you’re not seeing it doesn’t mean it’s not happening…

Alert: Okay, then… why don’t you get me up to speed?

Santiago: Basically, this gang has been stealing diamonds all over the city, and the police are stumped.

Alert: That actually sounds pretty bad…

Santiago: Unfortunately, they’re hardly the worst this city has to offer. But don’t worry. I went over the security plans for tonight’s gala with Silas Prescott personally. The party’s gonna be great, but the security’ll be even better. You’d need an attack helicopter to punch you way through our defensive grid!

Alert: Isn’t that kind of… overkill?

Santiago: Hello no! No such thing in my book. Mayor Brady, District Attorney Katsaros… all the most important people in the city are going to be at Prescott Industries tonight. Nothing is going to happen on my watch!

Alert: I feel safer already.

After saying goodbye to Santiago, you take the elevator up to the second highest floor and step into Grayson Prescott’s office.

Grayson: Hey, Alert. Everything ready for tonight?

Alert: Yup. Everything’s taken care of.

Grayson: That’s good news… but I believe there was one more thing to discuss?

Alert: … There was?

Grayson: This morning, you wanted to ask me a question? What was it?

Alert: I… I have a friend who wants to come to the Gala tonight. She’s one of my best friends, and she’s a junior fashion editor at Motif. If we could put her on the guest list she’ll write something nice about the gala!

Grayson: I suspect my father’s announcement tonight will make for plenty of good publicity.

Alert: Oh, right…

Grayson: But there’s no need to sell me on her attending. She’s more than welcome to come.

Alert: Really?

Grayson: Really. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Now, am I mistaken, or is the junior editor you’re referring to Poppy Patel?

Alert: Yeah, that’s her!

Grayson: I remember you two were close in school. She’s more than welcome, but I have to say… I was devastated to see her article declaring that joggers were officially off-trend.

Alert: Oh. I’m sure they’d still work if you--

Grayson: I’m kidding, Alert.

Alert: Ahh. Gotcha.

Grayson: See you tonight?

Alert: Definitely.

That night, back at your apartment…

Poppy: EEEEEEEEE! I’m so excited! This is the swankiest social event of the entire year, and I actually get to go!

Alert: … Ahem.

Poppy: All thanks to my best friend, Alert, who I will definitely find some way to repay.

Alert: Better!

Poppy: I’ve been thinking about the gala for weeks, and I know exactly what I’m going to wear.

Poppy slips into the other room and emerges a few minutes later wearing a slinky dress.

Poppy: Ta-da! You don’t have to tell me I look fabulous, because I already know I do… Now, the important question. What are you going to wear?

Alert: Uh, I don’t know… I was thinking I’d just wear what I have on.

Poppy: … Alert, seriously? Listen, tonight’s going to be huge for you! If you want to move up in the world, you’ve got to look the part! Not to mention… you’ve been single for far too long, my friend. I’d say it’s high time we changed that!

Alert: Do you think there’d be anyone who’s my type there?

Poppy: Well, you never know, right? But you should at least dress up for my sake. You know… your best friend? Who helped you through so many hard times in college?

Alert: I seem to remember that the other way round… but okay, what do you suggest?

Poppy: I’m glad you asked.

Poppy digs through the clothes she brought over and pulls out a garment bag.

Poppy: I’ve been hanging onto this for a fashion shoot, but no one will notice if it goes missing for a night or two. Go ahead and try it on.

You step out of the room, change, and return a few minutes later.

Alert: Well, what do you think?

Poppy: Stunning. Simply stunning! Promise me you’ll wear that! … Or I guess you could just wear what you wore to work…

Alert: This gala is my work, Poppy. It might be all fun and games for you, but I’m on the clock.

Poppy: Well… still, I’m sure we can squeeze in a little fun. Are you ready to head out?

Alert: Ready.

You and Poppy arrive at the gala to find the Prescott Industries lobby awash in a sea of high-profile guests in gowns and tuxes. Uniformed waiters circulate with trays of appetizers and fluted glasses of sparkling champagne.

Poppy: I never thought I’d say this, but I’m feeling a little underdressed. This party is bougie as hell!

Alert: Tell me about it…

Dax: Hey, guys!

Poppy: Speaking of getting dressed up… nice to finally see you out of a labcoat, Dax.

Dax: It’s weird, right? I feel weird. I think I’m gonna go put it back--

Poppy: No, don’t! Seriously. You look good. And we already have one Prescott employee wearing their work clothes tonight…

Dax: Yeah, Alert, isn’t that the same outfit you were wearing earlier?

Alert: What is this, gang up on Alert day?

Dax: Sorry. I mean, you do look professional, so that’s something.

Poppy: And what about me?

Dax: You’re okay, I guess.

Poppy punches Dax in the arm.

Dax: Okay, okay, sorry! You look great.

Poppy: That’s better. C’mon, let’s go get some drinks. Next round’s on me!

Alert: But it’s an open bar…

Poppy: Details, details…

You and Dax trail behind Poppy on your way to the bar, hanging back just out of her earshot.

Alert: So… are you nervous?

Dax: Not at all. We’ve rigorously tested the, uh, device since this morning’s anomaly, and everything looks--

Alert: I meant Poppy, genius.

Dax: Oh, right. Do you really think she might be interested in me?

Alert: It’s too soon to tell.

Dax: Oh, yeah… that makes sense.

Alert: Don’t worry. These things take time, that’s all.

Dax: Right, totally.

The three of you cross the lobby, passing by District Attorney Meiko Katsaros and her son.

Meiko Katsaros: Kenji, I can’t believe this! You wait until now to tell me you’re dropping out of law school?

Kenji: Relax, Mom, I’ve got it all figured out. Can’t we just focus on enjoying the party?

Waitress: Excuse me, ma’am, sir. Here are you drinks.

Kenji: Finally! Bottoms up!

Meiko Katsaros: This conversation isn’t over, Kenji. Let me tip the waitress for these drinks, and we’ll-- That’s strange. I must’ve left my wallet at home.

Waitress: It’s quite all right, ma’am. No tip necessary.

As you reach the bar, Poppy taps your arm and points.

Poppy: Hey, Alert, look who it is…

At the far end of the bar, Grayson stands in a close circle with several businessmen and his father, Silas Prescott.

Silas Prescott: I gotta say, I’m glad you boys came to us with this opportunity. The Bayside neighborhood has been an unsightly blemish on our fair city for too long. It could use a little… redevelopment.

Grayson: Dad, I’m not so sure about this deal. Redeveloping Bayside would mean pricing long-term residents out of their homes. Where are those families supposed to go? The rent in this city is already at an all-time high.

Silas flashes an annoyed look at his son but quickly covers it with a laugh.

Silas Prescott: Gentlemen, you’ll have to forgive my son. He doesn’t quite have the killer instinct necessary to succeed in this business yet.

Grayson: Maybe I just don’t think life has to be a zero-sum game.

This time, Silas fails to cover his annoyance.

Silas Prescott: That’s what losers tell themselves. You think I got to where I am today by being soft?

Grayson: I… I think I need some air. Excuse me, gentleman.

Grayson takes his drink and heads upstairs toward the balcony, his father’s disapproving stare following his across the gala.

Dax: Wow. That was…

Poppy: Hard to watch. Yeah. Alert, it looks like Grayson’s in need of rescuing. Now’s your chance to be a hero!

Alert: It’s not my place.

Poppy: Well, then whose place is it? You’re his executive assistant!

Alert: I’m sure he’ll be okay. He deals with this sort of thing all the time.

You, Poppy, and Dax mill about the lobby for the next half hour, mingling with your Prescott Industries coworkers. Suddenly, a hush falls over the assembled guests as the music fades out…

Poppy: Ooh, is this the big announcement?

Alert: Shhh!

Everyone turns to watch as Silas Prescott descends the central staircase, holding the room’s attention without so much as a word.

Silas Prescott: Ladies and gentleman, it’s such an honor to see you all here tonight. Mayor Brady, District Attorney Katsaros… I hope you’re all enjoying my champagne.

A ripple of laughter passes through the crowd, and SIlas smiles indulgently.

Silas Prescott: But as many of you have probably guessed, I didn’t organize this little shindig just for the pleasure of your esteemed company. In fact… I have something incredible to show you. Something that will change the world as we know it.

The crowd chuckles pleasantly. Silas steps over to a large curtain on the far end of the room.

Silas Prescott: Please forgive my flair for the dramatic. I know the suspense must be unbearable, but I assure you… a discovery of this magnitude deserves and equally grand reveal.

The crowd goes quiet as Silas holds up an enormous pink crystal.

Silas Prescott: Twenty-five years ago, my… my late wife and I discovered this crystal on an archaeological expedition.

Poppy: … It’s beautiful!

Silas Prescott: Analysis revealed that this was no ordinary crystal. Its subatomic particles show a composition that defies quantum mechanics as we know it. So the brilliant scientists at Prescott Industries have spent the last twenty-five years writing new rules.

Alert: Dax, this is the secret project you were working on?

Dax: Just all the parts that required a handsome, young science genius.

Silas Prescott: This incredible discovery now powers a device we call… The Prism Gate.

Silas gestures and the curtain behind him raises… revealing a strange device with two curved pylons attached to a control panel.

Silas Prescott: The Prism Gate operates under its own power and provides access to a clean and inexhaustible energy source.

The crowd gasps.

Silas Prescott: You heard that right. Infinite, clean energy. An end to famine, to pollution, to inequality. Now… watch…

Silas places the crystal in a slot on the Prism Gate’s control panel, and the Prism Gare begins to resonate. A pink, otherworldly glow fills the entire lobby!

Silas Prescott: Ladies and gentleman… welcome to the future!

Just as the crowd erupts in applause, an explosion thunders from overhead! The overhead skylight bursts inward, showering the room with shards of glass!

Silas Prescott: What the hell? Security!

Santiago: Everyone, stay calm!

Four masked men carrying fully-automatic rifles rappel down into the lobby from the roof.

Criminal: Everyone on your knees. This is a robbery!

Lead Gunman: Nobody does anything stupid, nobody has to die! So pretty, pretty please… do something stupid!

Alert: Oh… Oh crap!

[badchoosey]

The Royal Romance, Book One. Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time

‘You’ve been invited to the Prince’s coronation at the palace. Tonight, the Prince will choose his bride!’

KINGDOM OF CORDONIA - NOW

The doors to the grand ballroom of the palace are thrown open, and you make your entrance…

Riled: Here we go…

Hana: You look so beautiful, Riled. The Prince won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.

Olivia: Hah. He might like the way she looks, but when it comes to choosing his future queen, he knows who’ll be able to handle ruling at his side.

Riled: Olivia… My first act as queen will be banishing you!

Olivia: You can’t do that!

Riled: Consider yourself lucky… In the old days, it would’ve been an execution.

Just then, a trumpet sounds! The herald announces the Prince’s arrival.

Hana: He’s headed this way…

Liar: Riled… may I have this dance?

Riled: You want to dance with me? In your face, Olivia!

Liar: Huh?

Riled: Let’s go.

Prince Liar takes your hand and whisks you out onto the dance floor of the grand ballroom. As the orchestra plays, he leads you in a waltz around the room, your gown swirling as you glide through the steps.

Riled: To think, a few months ago, I didn’t even know the first steps to a waltz.

Liar: And now, no one would ever know that you weren’t born into this life. I hope you never have cause to regret coming here.

Riled: Why would you ever say that?

Liar: Well, so much has happened, and…

As the song winds down, Prince Liar’s hands linger on your waist, his eyes searching yours.

Liar: I need to talk to you.

Riled: Is something wrong?

Liar: It’s been impossible to get even a moment alone with you these last few days. But I need to know--

Olivia: Ahem! Prince Liar, may I be so bold as to cut in?

Liar: Oh, of course.

Riled: We’ll… talk later?

Liar: Yes.

As Olivia and Liar glide away, you find your way off the dance floor… and spot a familiar face.

Drake: Riled.

Riled: Drake. I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.

Drake: Liar insisted. I guess I should congratulate you.

Riled: Oh?

Drake: You look exactly like one of them. I guess you are one of them, now. This time tomorrow, you might be the future queen. And then our lives are going to go in very different directions.

Riled: Drake, if I’m chosen to be the Prince’s bride you’ll have to start bowing to me.

Drake: Heh. The bowing, I can handle. But I’ll also have to attend your wedding…

Riled: Drake… Are you saying…?

Drake: Forget it. You know what? I’m happy for you. If anyone deserves to live happily ever after, it’s you, Riled.

Riled: If I get too cocky, just remind me that the first time we met, I was taking out the garbage and waiting tables.

Drake: Feels like so long ago, now. Can’t believe it’s only been a few months.

Riled: Yeah. But after everything that’s happened, it feels more like once upon a time…

NEW YORK CITY - ONCE UPON A TIME

Riled: Just another glamorous New York Saturday night of hauling trash to the dumpster…

Daniel: It could be worse. There could be-- Rats! Riled, help!

Riled: Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this adorable little mouse family. They’re trying to get by, just like us.

Manager: Hey! Riled, Daniel, quit slacking off over there!

Riled: You told us to take out the garbage.  

Manager: And now I’m telling you to wait on the bachelor party that just rolled in. Chop chop!

Tariq: Waitress, there you are. We need your best table!

Drake: Forget the table. Just bring us whiskey, and lots of it.

Daniel: Riled, please take this one. I’ve got a date tonight, and I’ll never make it out of here in time…

Riled: You really want me to take the bachelor party? Why do I get all the rowdy tables?

Daniel: Because you’re way better at this than I am.

Riled: Okay, fine, but you owe me one.

Daniel: You’re the best!

Manager: Are you two still talking? I’ve seated them already. Now get over there before I dock your pay!

You head over to the table where three guys, sit, talking.

Riled: Hello, gentleman. I’ll be taking care of you this evening.

Maxwell: Waitress, steaks for the table.

Tariq: How about some filet mignon, medium rare and prepared with a bearnaise sauce?

Riled: The closest thing we have to filet mignon is the deluxe burger.

Tariq: Dare I ask for your wine list?

Riled: We’ve got an excellent vintage house red…

Tariq: House red?

Riled: It also comes in white.

Drake: We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey… and four deluxe burgers.

Riled: Four?

Drake nods behind you, and you turn to see…

Riley: (Whoa. He’s really cute!)

Liar: Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss…?

Riled: Uh, Riled.

Liar: Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riled.

Riled: Trust me, the charm’s all fine.

Liar: Excuse me?

Riled: Er, I mean, I’m also charmed… and awkward… And I’m just going to put your order in now.

Later that evening, a little after the bar has closed, you’re finishing up when someone taps you on the shoulder…

Liar: I think we’re about ready to head out. I just wanted to thank you… and apologise. I know we kept you late, and my friends can be… demanding.

Riled: Demanding? That’s one word for it…

Liar: Heh. You’re right. They deserve far worse, but I didn’t want to offend you with my language. If you don’t have any other plans tonight, maybe I can make it up to you by buying you a drink. We’re about to go to a club.

Riled: Oh? Which one?

Liar: We were hoping you might be able to give us some advice about that. We’re not from around here.

Riled: I recommend going to a gorgeous secret cove by the beach. Forget the club.

Liar: You know… that actually sounds perfect. To be honest, I’m getting a little tired of the usual bachelor party antics. Lead the way!

Riled: Sure! Let me finish up here, and I’ll meet you out front…

You quickly finish your way, and head back to change. You catch a glance of yourself in the breakroom mirror…

Riled: (I am so ready to get out of this uniform…I think I’ll stick with the basics.) Okay… I’m ready to go…

You step outside and see the bachelor party waiting for you.

Drake: Hang on… The waitress is coming with us?

Liar: Actually, we’re going with her. She’s picking our next destination.

Drake: So she’s our tour guide now?

Liar: Riled was kind enough to agree to show us around. She’s doing us a favor, so play nice.

A short time later… You pile out of the limo at the beach, and the guys head off towards the ocean…

Drake: We should build a bonfire.

Tariq: I’m not doing manual labor.

Drake: Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant was, I’ll go build a bonfire.

Maxwell: This place is awesome! Skinny dipping!

Tariq: Keep your pants on, Maxwell.

Liar: Thank you for bringing us here. I can tell the guys are enjoying themselves already.

Ri  led: I bet you’re used to putting everyone else first.

Liar: And why would you say that?

Riled: I can tell. I’m good at reading people… Now, forget about your friends. What about you? Do you like it here?

Liar: I love it.

Riled: It’s my secret spot, so I’m really trusting you.

Liar: I’ll do my best to be worthy of that trust. Though there’s just one problem… How am I supposed to buy you that drink?

Riled: You’ll think of something. Or maybe you’ll just keep owing me.

Liar: Fair enough. So what should we do?

Riled: We should climb up the cliff!

Liar: Way up there?

Riled: Try to keep up!

Finding handholds and places for your feet, you quickly scale the cliff face.

Riled: Huff… Did it.

You extend a hand down and help Liar up.

Liar: Thanks.

Riled: What do you think?

Liar: Huh?

Riled: The view. Worth the climb, right?

Liar: Oh, definitely.

For a moment, you both look out, watching the moonlight play on the waves below as the wind moves through the clouds. Then you shiver.

Liar: Cold?

Riled: Maybe just a little…

Liar: I see that the guys got the bonfire going. Let’s head back down and warm up…

You walk to the bonfire. Liar’s friends play by the water while the two of you sit together by the fire, appreciating the crackling flames as you warm your hands.

Liar: Tonight’s been quite the adventure… I never thought my night out on the town would end up like this. You’re really something else, aren’t you?

Riled: I’m going to take that as a compliment.

Liar: Believe me, it is. Spending time with you tonight has been the most fun I’ve had this entire vacation.

Riled: I guess that means you haven’t really been enjoying yourself very much.

Liar: It’s been wonderful, but there’s something missing. I really wanted to do one thing in particular while I was here…

Riled: And what’s that?

Liar: It’s… well… you’re probably going to think it’s silly, but I’ve always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty… It wasn’t really in the guys’ plan, so we just never got around to it. And now it’s my last day here… I don’t mean to sounds so ungrateful. It was thoughtful of my friends to throw me this bachelor party. They’ve done their best, but I’m not in the mood to celebrate.

Riled: Wait a second, it’s YOUR bachelor party? Congratulations.

Liar: If you knew the whole story, you might not congratulate me so quickly.

Riled: Oh?

Liar: I actually don’t know who I’m going to marry yet… only that I’ll have to pick my fiancee by the end of the year.

Riled: What’s that supposed to mean?

Liar: The truth is, Riled… I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia.

Riled: You’re a prince? I kind of had a feeling…

Liar: You did?

Riled: You’ve got a bunch of fancy guys at your bachelor party who tried to order filet mignon at a bar. Something told me you weren’t just visiting from Jersey.

Liar: And you don’t care? Not everyone takes it in stride.

Riled: I’m not going to let something like that intimidate me.

Liar: Heh. You’re fearless, aren’t you? I admire that about you. You know exactly who you are. Even better, you get to decide who you are. You could be anything, do anything. What drives you, Riled?

Riled: What I really want is to fall in love. Love is what gives life meaning… the connections that we make… the hearts that we touch.

Liar: That’s beautiful, Riled.

Looking out at the surf, you see Maxwell, Drake, and Tariq splashing in the water.

Maxwell: Got ya, Tariq!

Tariq: I told you, these shoes are leather!

Drake: Aw, lighten up, Tariq. You’ve got, what, a hundred pairs?

Riled: Looks like your friends are having fun…

Liar: Good. I’m happy for them. They deserve to have fun… Tomorrow, it’s back to Cordonia for the start of the social season.

Riled: But it’s not tomorrow yet…

Liar: What are you suggesting?

Riled: You said you wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. Let’s do it! I know a place where we can catch a boat tour. Best view in town.

Liar: Right now? But it’s way past midnight. Won’t all the tours be closed?

Riled: Oh… right. I forgot how late it’s gotten. In that case, we should call it a night.

Liar: I’ll take you home then.

Riled: Thanks.

A short while later, you arrive on your doorstep, the stars twinkling dimly against the bright lights of the city.

Riled: This is me.

Liar: Thank you for your company, Riled. Tonight has been incredible…

You look up into his eyes as he draws close to you… You pull him close, his arms wrapping around you.

Riled: Liar…

Liar: I’m glad to have met you, Riled. I’ll never forget this night…

The next morning, you get ready for your day…

Riled: Last night was fun… but it’s time to face the real world. And that means going back to work.

You’ve just walked up to the doors of the bar where you work when you hear a familiar voice!

Maxwell: Riled! Glad I caught you. We’re heading back to Cordonia so Liar can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia.

Riled: Huh?

Maxwell: You wouldn’t usually be allowed to join… but I want to sponsor you!

Riled: Sponsor me?

Maxwell: I’m from a noble house, but I don’t have any sisters, so we don’t have anyone in contention to marry the Prince. Instead, we can sponsor ant girl we choose. And you’re my pick.

Riled: You want to sponsor me? What’s in it for you?

Maxwell: If you accept, you’ll owe me three boons, each favor more fraught with peril than the last.

Riled: What? Really?

Maxwell: Nah, I’m just messing with you. I’m trying to help you out, Riled. We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving within the hour…

Riled: Whoa. You’re moving a little fast, don’t you think?

Maxwell: No time to waste. The opening Masquerade is tonight! It’s the start of the… uh, I guess you could say, it’s the start of the competition.

Riled: What do you mean?

Maxwell: There’s a whole horde of gorgeous, rich, noble women vying to become Cordonia’s next queen. And it’s not just about winning the Prince’s hand. You’ve also got to prove to the council that you can rule Cordonia with him. But I think you’ve got what it takes. You’re witty and charming.

Riled: Uh, thanks. So… a fancy Masquerade… and what else am I getting myself into?

Maxwell: Fun stuff, I promise! You’ll get to go yachting in the Mediterranean, skiing in the Alps, and dancing in the Royal Palace… Or, y’know, you can stay here… And go back to your waitressing gig with your crappy boss. That’s probably about as good.

For a moment, you think about everything that happened last night… and you slowly start to smile.

Riled: I’m in.

Maxwell: Yeah! Go pack your bags. This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime!

[badchoosey]

The Haunting of Braidwood Manor. Chapter One: Nightmares

You wake to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall…

Howey: Hello?

Floorboards creak just outside your door, and a shadow creeps along the threshold. The shadow lingers for a moment… and then a knock sounds at the door. For some reason you can’t explain, you stay quiet, hoping whoever’s outside will just move on… but knowing, deep down, that they won’t.

Howey: Whoever’s there, just leave me alone! Please, I’m begging you!

The knocking sounds again, harder this time, your teeth vibrating with each fall of the visitor’s fist upon the door.

Howey: Who are you?! Just go… please…

The door starts to bend and crack, the wood splintering inward until finally the door flies off its hinges…

Howey: No! Stay out!

A silhouetted figure looms in your doorway, wreathed in fire.

Howey: Please… don’t come in!

Voice: Did you forget me?

The figure draws closer, the flames spreading through the room, choking the air with smoke.

Figure: Did you forget what you did to me? What you did to your only brother?

Howey: Jonathon, please… I didn’t do anything! Just… just leave me alone!

Jonathan: You know I can’t do that.

Jonathan stretches out his arm, his hand closing around your throat…

Howey: Let me go! This is just a dream… just a dream… I just have to wake up!

You shut your eyes against the nightmare, but the grip on your throat only grows tighter…

Jonathan: Open your eyes, sister… this is no dream. You made me like this… and now I’ll return the favor.

Howey: What do you mean? I didn’t do anything!

Jonathan: LIAR!

You wake up again, gulping desperate lungfuls of air, the sheets gripped tightly in your balled fists.

Howey: (Why does this keep happening?)

You grab your phone off the nightstand and dial a number.

Howey: Victor, it’s Howey… I need to talk. Now. Okay, thanks… I’ll get dressed and head over.

A short while later, you’re sitting across from Victor in a booth at the campus coffee shop.

Victor: So… it sounds like the dreams are getting worse?

Howey: They’re not just dreams!

Victor: I’m sorry, Howey, but they are. Your brother’s gone… And he’s not coming back.

Howey: I know he’s not, Victor. I identified the body myself when they pulled him out of what was left of his car. But he’s… he’s not at rest. He’s angry… Angry at me.

Victor: But why? What reason could he have to be angry at you?

You look away, unable to meet Victor’s gaze.

All I know is I can’t take another night of this, Victor. I have to go to Braidwood Manor today. Can you drive me there or not?

Victor: You mean can I help you put yourself in an incredibly dangerous situation?

Howey: If you won;t do it, I’ll find someone else you will.

Victor: Don’t be like that. If something happened to you… I’d never forgive myself. I want to protect you, Howey. I want…

Howey: Something I can’t give. At least… not right now.

Victor leans back in his seat and lets out a sigh.

Victor: Let’s pretend I’m willing to go along with this… I still don’t understand what you’re hoping to find in some old house. You can’t actually expect to find ghosts there… right?

Howey: I’ve done the research. Braidwood Manor is for real… If there’s anywhere I can learn what causes spirits to linger after death… it’s there.

Victor: Spirits? This isn’t an episode of Ghost Hunters, Howey… this is real life.

Howey: I know how it sounds. But for my brother’s sake… I have to try something. Now are you going to drive me, or am I going to have to take a bus?

Victor: Okay, okay… I’ll drive you there after my shift. I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into…

That afternoon, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of Victor’s car, watching the landscape fly by out the window.

Victor: I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Howey: Cheer up, it’s not like you’re driving me to an execution.

Victor: It sure feels that way.

Howey: Then you should make the most of our last moments together. Be fun! Now!

Victor: Okay, okay. How about a game of I Spy? I spy with my little eye… something… white.

Howey: PLEASE tell me it’s not snow.

Victor: Hey, it’s the first thing I saw.

You burst out laughing, and Victor grins at you.

Howey: Thanks for always cheering me up, Victor. Why do you put up with me, anyway?

Victor: Mostly out of habit, I think. Plus, you’re one of the less annoying people at Hartfeld.

Howey: Thanks, Victor. You’re… fairly tolerable yourself.

Victor: Maybe I spoke too soon…

Howey: Hey!

Victor cranes his neck to look up through the windshield as the landscape changes outside.

Victor: Wow, look at those trees!

Howey: And all the snow… it’s almost untouched out here. No other cars in sight, either.

Victor: I’m not surprised. Who in their right mind would want to drive all the way out to Backwoods Manor?

Victor laughs as you roll your eyes.

Victor: So… do you want to tell me more about this place? Like… why it’s so haunted?

Howey: Well… it was a dark and stormy night… The wind howled mournfully through the hills like the cry of a--

Victor: Whoa, it’s not that long of a drive, just give me the facts.

Howey: You’re no fun. All right, here’s what happened… So, Braidwood Manor was built around the turn of the last century for the Waverley family, who’d just arrived here from England. By all accounts, life in the manor was idyllic… until the father went off to war.

Victor: Let me guess… this is where things get ugly?

Howey: Very. When he returned, he found his three youngest children dead from poisoning. The eldest daughter, Eleanor Waverley, had her throat cut.

Victor: That’s terrible. Why did you tell me that?

Howey: Hey, you asked! Anyway, ever since then… people have reported all sorts of strange occurrences happening at Braidwood Manor. If I can find out why the Waverley children never… never passed on to whatever comes after death, I’ll be able to help my brother find peace.

Victor: Howey…

Howey: Look, I know you think that… that I’m just being crazy, or that I need to let him go, or whatever, but--

Victor: I don’t think that at all! I think… I think you’ve been through a lot, and if this is what you feel you have to do, then I’ll help you. I just want you to be safe, that’s all.

Howey: I can take care of myself.

Victor: I know, I just… well, I care about you. You know that.

Howey: I… yeah, I know. And I’m grateful for that. But… just give me the benefit of the doubt, you know? I’m not totally helpless.

Victor: Of course you aren’t. I’m sorry.

Howey: It’s okay, Victor.

A few minutes later, Victor takes a right at a weathered sign, and the road changes from asphalt to coarse gravel… At the end of the drive, Braidwood Manor looms like a storm cloud on the horizon, its darkened windows full of a nameless foreboding.

Victor: This must be the place…

Howey: Yeah… this is it…

You get out of the car and gawk up at the manor’s once-majestic facade, your heart beating faster in your chest.

Howey: ...Braidwood Manor. Pictures are one thing, but seeing it in person…

Victor: Yeah. It’s even creepier than I imagined. Are you sure I can’t come with you?

Howey: Sorry, Victor… I have to do this by myself.

Victor: If you insist… When should I pick you up? Tomorrow morning?

You continue to stare up at the manor, barely hearing Victor.

Howey: Uh… I’ll call you. I don’t know how long I’ll be.

Victor: Okay… Do you need to charge your phone or anything? Somehow I doubt that place is wired for electricity.

You glance down at your phone and see that the battery icon has turned red.

Howey: Crap. Fifteen percent.

Victor: I’ve got my car charger if you want to use it. It won’t take more than… I don’t know, fifteen minutes? Half an hour tops.

Howey: Hmm… I’ll just keep it off to save battery.

Victor: Are you sure? What if you run out?

Howey: I won’t, I’m gonna keep it turned off!

Victor: But what if you do anyway? How are you supposed to contact me?

Howey: I’ll walk to the nearest payphone or something. Quit worrying so much, Victor. I’ll be fine. Really.

Victor: All right… guess I’ll see you later, Howey. Be careful in there, okay?

As the tail lights of Victor’s car recede into the distance, you take a deep breath and turn to face Braidwood Manor.

Howey: Well… I guess it’s just you and me now.

You make your way up the ice-slick steps leading to the manor, taking care not to slip. Soon, you’re standing before the manor’s great oak doors. You grasp the handle.

Howey: Here goes nothing…

You cross the threshold, letting the door fall closed behind you, and look out across the dilapidated foyer.

Howey: (Wow… I can’t believe it’s all still here…)

You take in the splintered furniture, the threadbare carpet, and the glittering wreckage of a fallen chandelier.

Owey: (If what they say about this place is true, I might be able to get some answers here. I could help my brother find peace…)

You shrug off your backpack and set it by the staircase. A sudden creak of floorboards makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck.

Howey: Who’s there?

There’s no reply… only the sound of your own heartbeat.

Howey: ...Never mind, I guess.

You cross the foyer, your feeling of unease growing with each step you take.

Howey: (Maybe it’s just the house settling… but maybe it’s something more. How messed up am I that I actually want it to be a ghost?)

You make a slow circuit through the room, the faded portraits gazing down at you through a century’s worth of dust. Just then, you hear a sound like tiny feet running up the stairs and whirl around.

Howey: Who’s there? Whoever you are just stay away from me!

You words are met with silence.

Howey: (Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…)

You feel a shiver run up your spine as you notice your backpack missing from where you left it by the stairs.

Howey: (Okay, this is starting to scare me…)

You walk over to the foot of the stairs and find a little tin soldier staring up at you from the bottommost step.

Howey: (Weird… This definitely wasn’t here before)

You look up the staircase to the second floor landing. Tin soldiers guard every stair, their little painted rifles slung over their shoulders.

Howey: (What exactly am I dealing with here?)

You follow the trail of soldiers up the stairs to the second floor, gripping the banister for support.

Howey: (Who put these here? And how many ARE there?)

At the top of the stairs, you find your backpack surrounded by a small battalion of tin soldiers, bayonets at the ready.

Howey: What the…

You eye the soldiers’ bayonets warily and take a step back.

Howey: (Nope. Not about to take that risk.)

Boy: What are you so scared of? They’re just toys!

Howey: Aaahhh!!

You scream and stumble backwards… past the lip of the topmost stair! Your foot misses the next step, and you go tumbling down the staircase, landing hard at the bottom. Your head bounces against the marble floor, and everything goes black…

You come to in an unfamiliar room, the soft light of the moon slanting through the window…

Howey: (Huh? Where… where am I? Braidwood Manor is over a hundred years old. This room looks like… like something out of time. Like the turn of the century was only yesterday.)

You hear a soft click as the doorknob turns… and the door slowly opens.

[badchoosey]

LoveHacks, Book One. Chapter 1: This Story Will Change Your Life

You make your way to the counter at a San Francisco cafe before the first day of work at your new job. The barista hands you a latte, complete with a recycled paper sleeve and your name written on the side.

Dad: Thank you! That’s… not how you spell Dad. Is Dadthaq even a name?

A guy in a plaid shirt over by the milk and sweeteners flashes you a smile.

Evan: They never spell my name right either. I’m Evan. Or ‘Effin’, according to my coffee.

Dad: I’m Dad.

Evan: So, Dad, do you take sugar in your coffee? Because I’m pretty sure you’re sweet enough as it is.

Dad: You were cuter before you started talking.

Evan: Ouch! … But you do think I’m cute, right?

Dad: Maybe.... But you definitely need to work on your flirting skills.

Evan: And I suppose you’re on expert on flirting?

Dad: It’s kinda my job, so… yeah. It’s my first day at ClickIt. You know, viral posts, life hacks, listicles?

Evan: I’ve heard of it. ‘20 Things Only 90s Kids Will Understand’... That kinda stuff?

Dad: Exactly. I’m the newest writer for their love and dating section.

Evan: Love and dating, huh? In that case… how am I doing?

Dad: Honestly? Your game is weak, son. Your body language is all wrong. You’re trying to look confident, but you have a tenseness that gives away how nervous you are. And you used a pick up line, which can come off as unoriginal, or even fake. You should be yourself.

Evan: Wow. Anything else?

Dad: Actually… you’ve had something in your teeth this whole time.

Evan immediately covers his mouth.

Dad: Kidding! You’ve done well enough that if you gave me your number, I wouldn’t immediately delete it. I might even let you show me around the city sometime…

Evan: It’d be my pleasure.

You exchange numbers with Evan, who smiles the whole time.

Evan: Wow, you really are good at this. How is someone like you still single?

Dad: I’m single because I have high standards. No one has managed to meet all my requirements.

Evan: Oh, it’s like that, huh?

Dad: It’s like that. You’re free to try to be the first, though.

Evan: Any chance you’re walking my way? I’m headed to the Zamble offices.

Dad: Cushy tech job, huh? I’m actually heading the other way. Can’t be late for my first day on the job!

You walk into the ClickIt office for the first time…

Dad: Whoa. What is this place…?

Martin: You must be Dad. I’m Martin, editor-in-chief here at ClickIt. This way. We’re about to start our daily stand-up.

Dad: Daily what?

Martin: I don’t know how they do things on the East Coast, but out here, we host a meeting each morning so all the writers can sync up.

Martin leads you to a brightly decorated lounge area where several men are already sitting on bean bag chairs.

Martin: Not the sort of vibe you’re a used to, huh?

Dad:This place looks like something out of Sesame Street.

Coworker: Really? You have a problem with our comfortable, creative environment? Maybe we could get you a wooden rocking chair, or a butter churn.

Dad: The bean bag is fine.

Coworker: See, Marty? A chick on the staff for one minute, and she’s already trying to redecorate. Total buzzkill.

Dad: Excuse me?!

Coworker 2: Hey, TJ, can you turn down the ‘douche’? She just got here…

TJ: I don’t take advice from junior writers, Felix.

Martin: Behave now, boys. Everyone, meet our newest Clicker, Dad. She’s the head of the new LoveHacks page. She’ll be our resident expert in all things fashion and romance.

TJ: So, the girly stuff?

Martin: Dad knows what she’s doing. Her personal blog post, ‘The Worst Date Ever’, went legit viral! Two million likes, five hundred shares, and more retweets than Kendall Jenner’s latest selfie. And I’m sure she has plenty more ideas up her sleeve!

Martin looks at you expectantly.

Dad: Oh, right! Actually, I’m glad you brought that up, Martin, because I’ve done a lot of brainstorming lately… How’s this for a headline? ‘Table for One: How to be Happy and Single.’

TJ: Ha! What are we, a website for ugly people?

Dad: Ugly people? You mean single women?

TJ: That article would get, like, negative clicks. But if you insist on catering to the uggos, you gotta at least make it snappy. Something like… ‘Five Ways to Replace Your BF With a Body Pillow!’ That sorta thing.

Dad: That’s… that’s actually not bad.

TJ: You know, I’d be happy to help you with some field research, if you want. Teach you a thing or two about love.

Martin: Field research! That’s a great idea!

TJ: … It is?

Martin: Dad can go on dates and write… ‘The 10 Guys You Date in Your Twenties!’ What do you think?

Dad: I’m gonna need a company card to do this right.

TJ: What, you can’t even get a guy to pay for you?

Dad: It’s the 21st century, TJ. Women can pay for things too.

Martin: Dad’s right. I’ll talk to the finance department and see what I can do. One month should be more than enough time for the article. I expect to see your progress and notes each week.

Dad: Yes, sir.

Soon after, you settled into your new workspace, a desk clustered together with others in the big, open space of the ClickIt office. Suddenly, a kind face leans into view from the workspace next to you.

Felix: Hey! I’m Felix. Looks like we’re desk-neighbours. Sorry about Tj back there. He can be a jerk sometimes. And by that I mean all the time.

Dad: I know the type. How and why do people put up with him?

Felix: Despite being a human poop emoji, he’s actually one of the most clicked writers on our site… and he’s Martin’s favorite.

Dad: That’s not fair, someone needs to call Martin out! No one should get special treatment for being buddy-buddy with the boss!

Felix: Hey, people have tried, but what’re you gonna do? Martin signs the checks, and we all tryin’ to get dat paper! … I immediately regret saying ‘get dat paper’. Let’s pretend I didn’t.

Dad: Stricken from the record.

Just then, a woman strides over, glaring at Felix.

Coworker: Felix, did you eat all our horseradish for your stupid video?

Felix: Isabel! Yes, I, uh, did! But I also got ‘Horseradish Challenge Fail’ trending! And the doctor says my sinuses will heal in no time.

Isabel sighs and turns to you.

Isabel: It’s Dad right? I’m Isabel. Don’t let Felix rope you into any of his videos, especially anything that involves wasabi.

Dad: Duly noted.

Isabel turns and walks away, and you notice Felix watching as she leaves.

Dad: I see what’s going on here… you totally HATE Isabel. You guys get on each other’s last nerve.

Felix: No! I mean, we kinda do… but I don’t hate her! I would never…

Dad: Oh, I got this all wrong… This tension isn’t anger… You like her, don’t you?

Felix: Well… maybe? Alright, fine, yes… But it’s not my dating life we should be discussing. What are you gonna do for your first date?

Dad: Good question. I kinda got caught off guard.

Felix: There’s no one in town you could call up? Word is you’re originally from the Bay, right?

Dad: Well… there is one guy. A good friend from college, Mark…

(Now Playing as Mark Collins.)

You’re walking down a bustling San Francisco street on your way to the Muni bus station.

Mark: There is not enough caffeine in the world for me right now.

You finish your energy drink before tossing the empty can into a bin. Your roommate, Cole, looks up from his phone.

Cole: You alright? You’ve been acting weird all morning.

Mark: I… didn’t sleep well last night. I’ve got a lot on my mind.

Cole: Wait… Is this because your college friend is back in town? The one who got away?

Mark: She’s not ‘the one who got away’.

Cole: Riiiight. You only talk about her all the time. And not in the ‘have you seen the latest episode of The Walking Dead’ way. In the ‘Dear Diary, I love her sooooo much’ kinda way.

Mark: I’m not the type to get lovesick. Sure, we were close in college, but that’s all.

Cole: Please. I’ve been your roommate for years now. I know when you have a crush on someone. I saw it when you first discovered Zooey Deschanel, and I see it when you talk about your long-lost BFF.

Mark: Fine. You wanna know the truth? The real, one hundred percent truth?

You lean towards Cole, and he leans forward to meet you…

Mark: Go to hell, Cole.

Cole: Aw, come on. I thought we were having a bonding moment!

Mark: You’re the worst.

Cole: Love you too, roomie. Anyway, you should call her up. Invite her to The Double Tap for drinks. Meet the gang.

Mark: I dunno. I have that work thing tonight…

Cole: Whatever you say, man. But she’s probably wondering about you as we speak…

(Now Playing as Dad).

Felix: Soooo… you gonna call this Mark guy, or what?

Dad: Oh! It’s uh… It’s just been so long, and…

Felix: … It’s complicated. Say no more. In that case, can’t you just go to a bar or something and get a guy’s number? You’re an expert, right?

Dad: Oh! Actually… I picked up a phone number at the coffee shop before work!

Felix: Okay, now you’re making this look too easy.

Later, you and Felix go to a small boutique just off Market Street.

Dad: Thanks for coming with me to pick out an outfit for my date tonight! I didn’t think you’d want to come shopping.

Felix: Hey. I’m helping you with research. Any time I can get out of the office and still get paid, I’m down. So, where’s Evan taking you tonight?

Dad: Some new club… Mystique, I think it was.

Felix: Mystique? Seriously?! That club is impossible to get into! Rumor has it the VIP lounge has an ice luge for vodka shots and its own taco bar. And last year, DJ Khaled played!

Dad: You listen to DJ Khaled?

Felix: No. I’m more of a Lumineers guy… but I recognise how big DJ Khaled is. Mystique is very exclusive, but you never know who you’ll run into there…

Dad: In that case, I’d better look my best.

Just then, a little black dress catches your eye. You run your fingers over the bright sequins.

Felix: Wow. If you wear that dress, Evan will fall all over himself trying to impress you.

Dad: I definitely have to try this on! … Actually I think I’ll go with this mustard dress instead. The other one is very… sparkly.

Felix: Are you sure? I mean, I know I’m not very stylish but..

Dad: You don’t like this one?

Felix: No, that’s not what I meant! I’ll, uh, just defer to your judgement…

Dad: I’m ready for my first big date in San Francisco!

That night, you’re waiting for Evan outside Mystique…

Evan: Dad! Over here!

Dad: Hey, Evan.

You make your way over to your date, weaving through the crowd of typical Silicon Valley tech workers.

Dad: Whoa. It’s like a sea of plaid button-up shirts out here.

Evan: Yeah, a lot of the guys came directly from work.

Dad: You know them?

Evan: Oh, yeah. Zamble rented out the whole place for the night.

Dad: Really? You brought me to a work party?! For our first date?

Evan: I just, uh, couldn’t wait to see you again! And I had to come here tonight, so I thought, you know, two birds? Plus, Zamble parties are always epic. Trust me, when we get inside, you won’t believe it’s a work party.

Dad: … Fine. But just FYI, next time, you should really tell a girl beforehand. No one likes to be blindsided.

Evan: You got it.

In the club, Evan pulls you close so you can hear him over the pulsing music…

Evan: Let’s grab a drink at the bar.

Dad: Okay!

You follow Evan through the dance floor to the back. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

Dad: Wait, is that…?

The crowd parts, and a handsome guy you haven’t seen in years steps into the light.

Mark: Dad?

Dad: Mark?!

[badchoosey]

Endless Summer, Book One. Chapter 1: This Must Be Heaven

???: Stay down! It’s coming this way!

??? 2: Tim! Give me your hand!

??? 3: You don’t understand, do you? Of course not. But you will… in time.

The plane shudders, jolting you awake. You blink away the strange dream as your eyes adjust to the bright sunlight outside…

Tim: Wow…

Your best friend Diego gives you a goofy smirk from the seat beside you.

Diego: Morning, sleepyhead.

Tim: I’m not still dreaming, right?

Diego: Doesn’t feel real, does it? But we’re finally on our way!

The chatter of the ten contest winners from your school fills the small plane…

Quinn: One magical week in paradise, here we come!

Craig: All expenses paid, what whaaaat!

Raj: Good thing too. I’m so deep in student debt I couldn’t even afford instant ramen right now.

Diego: Hey… you okay, Tim? Bad dream?

Tim: Just a really weird one. I dreamt about… about him!

You instantly recognise the guy walking down the aisle toward you.

Diego: You had a dream about Sean Gayle? Well, what are you waiting for? Go talk to him!

Diego pushes you out into the aisle, right as he passes by! You bump into each other.

Sean: Whoa, hello there!

Diego: My friend Tim here wants to say something.

Time: Outta my way! Think you can take up all that room with those big muscles? Think again, bud!

Sean: How, uh, rude of me...

Sean excuses himself as he slips by you.

Diego: Oh man, got that whole thing on video. You’ve gotta see your face… Huh, weird. Is it really 5:15? We should’ve landed an hour ago and it didn’t feel like you’d been snoring that long.

Tim: Hilarious. I’ll go ask the pilot if something’s up.

As you make your way forward, you pass by the other students talking loudly over each other…

Aleister: Excuse me, will you all please cease your babbling?! The tour guide is trying to speak!

Lila: Thank you Aleister! As you tour guide for the week, I just want to say that we should all try to… you know, be friends! It is an island after all, so… you’re kinda stuck with each other! Hee hee!

Zahra: Is it too late to jump out of the plane?

The pilot has his combat boots kicked up on the dashboard.

Tim: Excuse me. It’s Jake right? Weren’t we supposed to have landed by now…? Wait, are you asleep?!

Jake: Hrn?

He opens his eyes and looks back at you. Instantly you recognise his face too… from that same bizarre dream…

Jake: Listen, Boy Scout, don’tcha know it’s rude to wake someone who’s taking a nap?

Tim: ‘Boy Scout’?

Jake: What can I say? I give nicknames to people who annoy me.

Tim: In that case, I’m calling you Jared Leto.

Jake: ‘Jared Leto’? Whoa, hang on, I do not look like Jared Leto! I had this haircut before Jared Leto did, okay?

Tim: No judgement here. We all get our style from somewhere.

Jake: Alright, comedian, when I come back in a week to pick y’all up, you, my friend, are riding in the cargo bay.

Time: Okay, okay. What if I just called you Joker?

Jake: Fine. But I’m picturing the Heath Ledger one instead. Anyway, relax. We ain’t landing ‘til… The hell? That time ain’t right… And that ain’t right either.

He whacks the instrument panel on his dash a few times.

Tim: You sure you know what you’re doing?

Jake: If you knew half the things I’ve survived, you’d bet on me to get you through anyth--

Out of nowhere, turbulence hammers the plane! You’re thrown into the wall of the cockpit!

Tim: Aah!

Jake: Aw, just great! This stormfront’s coming in quick.

He leans in and grabs the yoke.

Jake: Get your ass in a seat, hear? And tell everybody to buckle up.

Tim: But--

Jake: Now, Boy Scout!

Dark clouds close in around the plane, gusts rocking it side to side. Everyone starts shouting…

Raj: Ohhhh, I am really regretting that airport Chipotle!

Craig: Don’t puke, bro! If you puke, I’m gonna puke!

Michelle: Where the hell did this storm come from?! It was a clear day!

Jake: It happens, okay? This is totally normal!

Zahra: Yeah. Sure. THAT looks normal.

Outside, balls of orange electricity coalesce out of the dark sky and explode in a crackle of sparks!

Grace: It looks like ball lightning… but I’ve never seen anything quite like this!

Aleister: This is all wrong! I can’t die here, surrounded by these morons!

Sean: Everyone, just breathe! We’re gonna get through this!

Quinn: Oh god, Oh god…

A blistering crack of thunder deafens you as lightning strikes the plane! Sparks fly in the cockpit!

Jake: Welp, engines just lost power! Bringin’ her down manually! Everybody, hang on!

The shouting grows louder as your classmates start to panic… all except one. A girl with a tight ponytail and a long scar across her eye sits alone in the back row of the plane, silent and unfazed.

Lila: Tim! Safety first! Please find a seat!

You look for an empty space around you… You tumble into the seat beside Quinn as the plane lurches violently! Quinn’s face is drawn tight, refusing to look.

Quinn: Hff… hff…

Tim: Just breathe. It’ll pass.

Quinn: This can’t happen… not yet… it’s too soon.

Quinn grips the armrests tightly. Her chest rises and falls shallowly, as if she’s having trouble breathing. You rest your hand gently on top of hers.

Tim: I’m here. You’re not alone. We’ll be okay.

Quinn: I…

She relaxes and lets out a deep sigh. When she opens her eyes, they meet yours.

Quinn: Thank you…

She offers you her hand. You take it. She smiles sweetly, and it somehow makes all the shouting and alarms fade to the background.

Quinn: I’m Quinn.

Tim: Tim.

Jake: Just a little farther! I think we’re almost out!

Just as the lightning reaches fever pitch, the plane bursts out of the storm clouds into clear sky!

Raj: Woooooooohoooooo! We’re alive!

Quinn: Tim, look! There it is…

Jake: Get a good look now, ‘cause we’re coming in fast! Welcome to La Huerta.

The plane sinks toward the gorgeous, sprawling island. At its center, a volcano rises above the rainforest, breathing a white column of smoke.

Jake: La Huerta Tower, this is tail number XC-DMK, requesting emergency priority to land!

Radio: …

Jake: Carlos! Pick up, you lazy bastard. It’s Jake!

Radio: …

Jake: Ignoring me won’t make me forget the hundred bucks you owe me. Like it or not, we’re coming in!

The plane lands on a dirt airstrip at the edge of the island, pulling into a hangar. You step down the stairs into the warm tropical sunshine.

Tim: Rough landing, Joker. Hope you don’t work for tips.

Jake: You kidding? I’m a damn hero for even getting you on the ground! Carlos, I need a tune-up! … Carlos!

As Jake marches off, the rest of your group pulls their luggage from the plane’s cargo bay…

Quinn: This island’s supposed to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. The beaches, the waterfalls…

Grace: It’s also home to a plethora of rare flora and fauna!

Craig: Only ten spots on the trip, and they had to give one to this dork…

You reach for your suitcase handle just as Sean does.

Sean: Oh, sorry!

Tim: If you wanna carry my bag, go right ahead.

Michelle: Oh my god. Could you be any more desperate?

A pretty girl in heavy makeup drapes her arms around Sean.

Michelle: People like you always hover around the spotlight like moths.

Tim: Spotlight?

Michelle: Yeah, right. As if you don’t know who Sean is.

Craig: Seriously? Our superstar quarterback? … The Heisman frontrunner?

Sean: Guys, it’s cool. Chill out--

Michelle: Look, Sean doesn’t need any famehounds hanging around, got it?

Tim: Exactly. So what are you doing here?

Michelle: Ex-cuse me?!

Tim: You heard me. You’re just stalling to think up a comeback. Don’t worry. I’ll wait.

Michelle: You--

Sean: Michelle, can you chill? And I don’t mean Netflix and chill. I mean actual chill. Please.

As Michelle starts arguing with Sean, you back away. Your foot clinks on something.

Tim: Huh? What’s this?

Diego: Is that… a tranquilizer dart? The vial’s nearly empty. It must’ve hit its target.

Tim: Yeah, and this is a pretty big dose. Whatever animal they took down must’ve been huge.

Diego: You mean, if they took it down.

You look up and see someone watching you from nearby, listening to your conversation.

Tim: Hey, Diego… who is that?

Diego: Dunno. Got eyes for the mysterious hottie, huh?

Tim: There’s something… off about her.

Diego: What gives you that idea?

Tim: She’s too quiet.

Diego: Quiet? So what? I’m quiet. Well, when I’m not around you.

Tim: I guess you’re right. I don’t know why I’m being suspicious.

Diego: Huh… well, there is one thing.

Tim: What?

Diego: We were told that ten students from our college had won this trip, right? Obviously we’re not counting the pilot or the guide, but… Count us off. She makes eleven.

You look in the girl’s direction once more, and this time she’s staring directly back at you. Your eyes lock. You try to look away, but for some reason you can’t, as if she’s pulling you in with her gaze.

Jake: Hey, Lila! Where the hell are your people?

Jake storms back, and at last the silent girl looks away. The strange hold over you dissipates. You shake it off.

Jake: There’s nobody here!

You all look around. You and your group are still the only people at the airstrip.

Lila: They should be here in a shuttle to take us up to the main resort, but… I’m sure it’s just a slight delay! No need to fret! They’ll be here any minute.

Jake: The hell with that. I’m going up to that control tower to get some answers.

Tim: What do you think is going on here?

Jake: No idea… Call it a gut feeling, but whatever it is, it ain’t good. So, Boy Scout? You comin’ or not?

Michelle: I could go with you--

Jake: Wasn’t talkin’ to you, Maybelline.

Lila: Um, okay! I guess, the rest of you, please follow me? We’ll take the short walk up the hill to the resort. Sounds fun, right? Yay! Um, Quinn? Where are you going?

Quinn is skipping past Lila, unbuttoning her blouse.

Quinn: Some of us want to explore the beach a little first! We’ll meet you guys at the hotel! Oof, this button’s stuck. Tim, could you help me?

Tim: Oh! Sure…

Quinn draws close to you, and you help her undo the last button. She slips out of her top.

Quinn: Ahh, that’s better! You’re coming to the beach with us, right?

Tim: I’m tired. I’ll just head up to the hotel now.

Your group gradually winds your way up the paved road, rolling your suitcases. You’re beginning to fatigue when you come around the bend and see it…

Lila: May I be the first to welcome you all to The Celestial!

Grace: We get to stay here?!

Zahra: Huh. Maybe this trip won’t suck.

Sean: Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s check out our rooms.

Your group excitedly heads toward the lobby, passing under a long, ornamented overhang, while Lila launches into her rehearsed speech.

Lila: ‘The Celestial Hotel and Resort, the jewel of the Caribbean, boasts 25 stories and 1,200 suites of the finest tropical accommodations you can imagine. Built on the island of La Huerta, which means ‘The Garden’, the Celestial ranked in Travel and Leisure’s top ten global hotels last year.’

The automatic doors slide open welcomingly, and you enter the crisp air conditioning of the lobby… Every last one of you freezes where they stand.

Tim: Um…

Lila: I… I don’t understand.

The silence is deafening. The front desk stands deserted. Suitcases and luggage carts lie unattended. On a table, a half-finished wine glass gathers dust.

Zahra: If this place is supposed to be so great… Then where the hell is everyone?

[badchoosey]

Rules of Engagement, Book One. Chapter 1: The Heiress

Crew Member: Welcome to Ember of the Sea, the pinnacle of luxury cruise ships. Are you ready to embark on the summer of a lifetime? Sorry, they make me say that. Let me help you with your bags, Miss…? Juicy? You’re part of the group Mr. Singh has been waiting for. Right this way. From what I hear, you’re about to get some very interesting news. Have a seat. Trust me, this is a lot more scenic than our meeting rooms. I’ll tell him you’re here.

You take a seat at the pool bar and gaze out across the ship’s deck to the ocean.

Juicy: … Gorgeous.

???: I was just thinking the same thing. Can I get you a drink, beautiful?

Juicy: Do I look like I want you hitting on me?

???: Ha ha, slow down! I’m just doing my job.

Juicy: Oh! You’re the bartender.

???: Yep. But my friends call me Dog. So, what brings you to our corner of the ocean?

Juicy: Actually, it’s a bit of a mystery. I’m supposed to meet my grandmother’s lawyer here.

Dog: A lawyer, eh? Sounds like you could use that drink. What’ll you have?

Dog hands you a cocktail menu.

Dog: You know, I can tell a lot about a woman by her drink order.

Juicy: Whiskey on the rocks.

Dog: Interesting choice…

Juicy: Oh yeah? What does my drink say about me?

Dog: That you keep things simple.

He slides a tumbler of caramel-colored whiskey across the bar. You take a sip.

Dog: How is it?

Juicy: ...Perfect.

Dog nods and turns to help another customer. Suddenly, you feel someone come up behind you and wrap you in a big hug!

???: Sis! You’re finally here! Are you ready to get crazy tonight?

Juicy: Couture! I can’t believe you’re thinking about partying at a time like this. Aren’t you even a little curious about this mysterious meeting with the lawyer?

Couture: Sure… but that didn’t stop you from flirting with Mr. Hot Bartender!

Juicy: We were just talking.

Couture: Yeah, you’re way too slavish… er… loyal to your guy. I mean, I never liked him, but he is your fiance. Speaking of which, shouldn’t he be here right now?

Juicy: It’s a long story.

Couture: Sounds boring. I say, forget him. Let’s kick this cruise off right! A toast!

Couture snags a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter.

Juicy: Let’s toast to family.

Couture: You always were the sweet one. To family!

You clink your glass with Couture’s and drink. As Couture downs hers, your attention is caught by a professional looking man in a crisp suit.

Dinesh: Ahem. Excuse me, ladies. I’m Dinesh Singh, and I have some paperwork for you to attend to…

Couture: Oh! You must be Nana’s… I mean, Grandma’s lawyer.

Dinesh: Precisely. Thank you for meeting me here. I know it’s highly unusual.

Couture: You mean highly awesome. I can’t believe Nana’s last wish was for us to take this cruise together. I mean, it would be way more awesome if she were here…

Dinesh: From my short time knowing her, it was clear that this summer trip was very important to her. I imagine she wanted you to enjoy your time together, as she did when she was your age on this cruise.

Juicy: Right. Nana never wanted us to worry about her. I miss her so much…

Dinesh: I have something that might just help with that. She left each of you a letter. I also have letters for your other two siblings and cousin when they arrive.

Couture: Oh, they’re running late. You may as well give us ours now.

Mr. Singh hands you each a sealed envelope. You stare at it for a moment.

Juicy: Wow, her last words to us… Couture, do you think we should do something special, like…

Turning, you see Couture has already ripped her letter open and begun reading it.

Couture: Oh. My. God. Juicy, open your envelope now!

You open the envelope…

Nana’s Letter: My dearest Juicy, I hope you’ll forgive me for keeping this from you, but I’ve seen wealth ruin many happy families, and I never wanted that for my children or grandchildren. But now that I’m gone, I want you to know the truth. And I hope you’ll honor my last wishes and find happiness from them.

Juicy: Wait, what does this mean?

Dinesh: Your grandmother was a very, very wealthy woman… And she’s left a $500 million fortune to split among you, your three siblings, and your cousin…

Couture: That’s… $100 million each! We’re rich!

Juicy: I can’t believe this is actually happening…

Dinesh: I assure you, this is very real.

Juicy: I could hire Ryan Gosling to be my butler!

Couture: Ooh, I want Channing Tatum! We can make them wash our cars! Okay, lawyer. I’m ready for my money now. I’ll take it in twenties…

Dinesh: Actually… your grandmother left you each specific instructions for how to receive your inheritance.

Juicy: Instructions?

Dinesh: They’re detailed in the letters.

You and Couture turn to the second page.

Couture: Oh no. This is bad. Here, look…

Nana’s Letter: Dearest Couture, You’ve never learned the value of hard work. To get your inheritance, you must keep a job on board the ship for the entire summer.

Couture: Nana’s making me work for this money! Didn’t she love me at all?

Juicy: Come on, you know Nana adored all of us. She practically raised us after Mom and Dad…

Couture: Yeah, except my life was all student loans and instant ramen when it could’ve been private jets and solid-gold Ferraris. Besides, it’s going to be impossible for me to do her task. Are you sure there aren’t any exceptions?

Dinesh: Unfortunately not. Your grandmother was very specific with the wording in her will.

Couture: But how am I even supposed to get a job here?

Dinesh: Arrangements have been made for you to work in the ship’s finest restaurant, Nomade. You start this week.

Couture: This week?! At least Juicy’s going to be there with me, right?

You read the rest of your letter…

Nana’s letter: Juicy, you’ve already found the love of your life. I know you’ve always struggled with being decisive and making commitments, so I want to help you overcome that. At the end of the summer, when the cruise reaches its final port, an elegant wedding has been prepared for you and your beloved fiance. You only need to make your vows to earn your share.

Couture: Pfft. That’s easy! You’ve got it made!

Juicy: Maybe not… Couture, can we talk in private?

Dinesh: I’ll take my leave. Should you have any questions, your grandmother stipulated that I stay on the ship for the duration of the summer to see her wishes carried out.

As Mr. Singh walks away, you and Couture head toward your cabin.

Couture: Okay, we’re alone now. Spill.

Juicy: It happened last night. My fiance...Dank… he had to work late at his startup and I finished packing for the cruise early… So I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

Twelve hours earlier…

You walk into Dank’s startup office, holding a bag of takeout.

Juicy: (It’s so dark in here…)

???: Oooh, Dank! Yes!

Juicy: Hello? Dank?

You fumble for the switch and turn on the lights!

You see Dank on the couch… with a half-naked girl on top of him!

Half-Naked Girl: Uh, a little privacy please?

Juicy: Privacy?!

Dank: Juicy!

Half-Naked Girl: Ohh… You’re Juicy… This must be like, really sad for you.

Juicy: That’s one of the things I’m feeling.

Dank: I thought you were packing! What are you doing here?

You clench the takeout bag in your hand.

Juicy: Here’s your dinner!

You hurl the container at them, and it bursts open, sending spaghetti and meatballs flying! One smacks Dank right in the face!

Dank: Hey!

Half-Naked Girl: Eek!

With tears filling your eyes, you turn… and run.

Juicy: And that’s what happened.

Couture: Yikes. You caught your fiance cheating on you, and you just ran off?

Juicy: Not my best moment, I know.

Couture: Look, that guy was a jerk. None of us really liked him, and we were all secretly hoping you’d break up with him anyway.

Juicy: We really need to work on your pep talks.

Couture: I guess the big question is whether or not it’s worth $100 million to marry a lying, cheating, scumbag like Dank.

Juicy: Ugh. Never in a million years. To tell you the truth, I don’t even know if I can handle facing him ever again.

You reach your cabin… and pause.

Juicy: Wait a second, the door’s already open.

Couture: Housekeeping?

You nudge open the door and find…

Dank: Juicy!

Juicy: Dank?!

Dank: I’m so glad I found you! I can’t believe you just left without me! I have something to say…

Juicy: This better be good.

Dank: I made a mistake.

Juicy: I already knew that… Get out.

Dank: This is my room, too.

Juicy: Fine, then I’m leaving.

You turn to go.

Dank: Wait!

You storm out and Couture and Dank follow after you!

Dank: Juicy! Stop being childish! We need to talk!

Couture: Hello? She caught you cheating on her! You’re the last person she’d want to talk to!

Dank: Couture, stay out of this. I’ve listened to podcasts that last longer than your relationships. This is between me and Juicy. She knows she’s not blameless in all of this. A relationship is a complicated thing.

You veer out the exit and onto the main deck. Dank trips over himself to catch up to you.

Dank: Juicy, I never would’ve cheated on you if you hadn’t been so distant. You practically pushed me into Sabrina’s arms!

You stop short and stare at him in disbelief.

Juicy: I… what?

Couture: You know, Dank, it’s good you’re here. Perfect, really, because my sister’s got something she wants to tell you. Right, Juicy?

Couture nudges you in the ribs.

Couture: Come on, this is your chance to really let him have it!

Juicy: I’ve got nothing to say. I don’t want to talk to you, Dank.

Dank: You can’t just shut me out.

Couture: Just watch us! Now back off, or I’m calling security.

Dank sighs.

Dank: Come on, Juicy… We’ve spent the last five years together. Are you really going to break up with me? And just hope you find someone new? Who else is gonna put up with all your little quirks and insecurities? I know you. I’m the only one who’ll ever love you.

You say nothing. He turns to go.

Dank: Forget it. I’ll give you some space. You obviously need it. But this isn’t over.

Dank leaves.

Couture: Ugh, what a jerk.

Juicy: He’s not wrong… My whole life was built around him. What if he’s right? I mean, I know you enjoy being single, but I hate it. And even Nana wanted me to marry him. It’s the only way to get my inheritance.

Couture: I’m sure Nana wouldn’t have wanted this. Actually… let me see that letter again.

You both look at the letter…

Couture: Nana never said you had to marry Dank. Just someone. You’ve got the whole summer to find a new fiance!

Juicy: That’s not a lot of time…

Couture: That doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Ever heard of love at first sight? You totally have a chance at this.

Juicy: … You know what? I can do this. I’m not going to let Dank ruin my life and make me miss out on $100 million.  I’ve got a dream wedding waiting for me at the end of the summer and three months of a luxury cruise to the most romantic places on earth. There’s a man out there who’s going to love me for me… And I’m going to find him.

[badchoosey]

The Crown & The Flame, Book One. Chapter 1: The Broken Alliance

(Some choices in TC&TF lead to death. For the sake of actually finishing the story, I shall only make the choices that do not lead to death, otherwise we’ll be here all day.)

(Now playing as Dominic Hunter)

You’re one of the best hunters in Stormholt, the smallest realm of the Five Kingdoms.

Dominic Hunter: Are you sure you want to do this? The queen will never forgive me if you go back to the castle wounded.

Your best friend, Princess Kenna Rys, smirks as she raises her practice sword.

Kenna Rys: Trying to back out? I think you’re just worried I’ll bruise that pretty face of yours.

Dominic Hunter: Oh? So my face is pretty now?

Kenna Rys: Typical. You only hear what you want to hear. Ready to lose to a princess?

Dominic Hunter: Go ahead and try. You haven’t gotten the better of me in six summers.

Kenna raises her sword… You swing at her and her in the side!

Kenna Rys: Oof!

Dominic Hunter: You were saying about losing to a princess?

Kenna Rys: You haven’t won yet!

Kenna lunges forward and ends up right against you, your faces only inches apart.

Kenna Rys: Maybe you should spend more time on your swordplay and less time with the kitchen girls.

Dominic Hunter: I think I’ve got time for both.

Kenna Rys: Is that so?

Dominic Hunter: Careful, Princess. You’re starting to sound jealous.

Kenna Rys: Jealous? I…

You knock the sword out of her hand.

Dominic Hunter: You let yourself get distracted. Maybe you are getting jealous…

Kenna Rys: Dom!

Kenna tackles you, reaching for your sword!

Gabriel Amarne: Ahem…

Turning, you see Gabriel, the Royal Bodyguard.

Dominic Hunter: Gabriel! We--

Kenna Rys: I was just--

Gabriel Amarne: Leaving. Nobles from the other four kingdoms will arrive shortly. The queen expects you to be there to greet them.

Kenna Rys: Of… of course.

Kenna hurries off to the castle, but Gabriel lingers back.

Gabriel Amarne: What in the three hells do you think you’re doing? She’s the Princess of Stormholt.

Dominic Hunter: Honestly, it was nothing.

Gabriel Amarne: Nothing? Maybe it was nothing to you. But she cares for you, Dom. More than she should. More than you deserve.

Dominic Hunter: I know I’m a commoner, but…

Gabriel Amarne: You’re worse than a commoner. When we found you, you were a child with no name, abandoned half-dead on the castle steps and covered in burns.

Dominic Hunter: Whatever my origins, I’ve been a loyal friend to Kenna. Even you have to admit that.

Gabriel Amarne: A childhood friend, but childhood ends. Adults do as they must, royalty most of all. The princess knows that. Don’t make it any harder on her than it has to be.

(Now playing as Kenna Rys)

You and Gabriel enter the throne room and find your mother dressed in her finest gown, talking to Leon, the Captain of the Royal Guard.

Queen Adriana: You’ve increased security as I requested?

Leon Stirling: Yes, of course, your Majesty. A dozen guards at each entrance, and a company of archers on every wall.

Your mother turns to you and smiles.

Queen Adriana: It’s nice to see you indoors for once, my little butterfly.

Kenna Rys: Where else would a butterfly thrive but indoors?

Queen Adriana: Funny. I trust you’ll be on your best behaviour tonight. You just might meet your future husband.

Leon Stirling: Kenna, married? Now that, I’d like to see. There are beasts in the Blackspine Mountains you’d have an easier time taming.

Queen Adriana: Now, Kenna, it’s time for you to get dressed! I had something special made.

Kenna Rys: I don’t suppose it’s armor like the kind Leon has, is it?

Queen Adriana: Better. I had one of the finest dressmakers in the Five Kingdoms work for months on a silver and black gown unmatched in beauty… I can’t wait to see it on you… and I know our guests will be very impressed!

Kenna Rys: I’ll just stick with the clothes I have on.

Queen Adriana: I can’t say that I’m surprised… but I had to try.

Kenna Rys: Heh.

Queen Adriana: I do wish your Aunt Eloise was here to advise you. She was always the fashionable one…

Kenna Rys: She hasn’t returned yet?

Queen Adriana: You know my sister, Kenna. Always being entertained by some dashing gentleman on a foolish adventure. The luxuries of not being queen.

Trystan, a castle servant, approaches.

Trystan Blake: Your Majesty, the nobles from the other four kingdoms have arrived.

Kenna Rys: Already?

Queen Adriana: Come now, little butterfly. You just need to smile and look pretty. I’m the one who has to listen to old King Amanth drone on about his hunting conquests.

Kenna Rys: You think he’s going to tell the story of how he killed a bear with a rusted spoon?

Queen Adriana: He always does. And I’m pretty sure the bear gets bigger and bigger each time. Come. Let’s go welcome our guests.

Servants throw open the grand doors to the throne room. The kings and queens of the four neighbouring kingdoms enter, each with a group of courtiers. Your mother takes your hand.

Queen Adriana: Remember today, Kenna. The alliance formed here may stand for a thousand years, even against our common enemy, the Iron Empire.

Kenna Rys: Let me say, this is a mistake. Peace can never be obtained with the stroke of a pen, only by the swinging of a sword.

Queen Adriana: I know you’re weary. But we must place our trust in our neighbours.

Gabriel Amarne: After a hundred years of border skirmishes, it’s a miracle they’re considering this alliance at all.

The first of the royals approaches you. Trystan clears his throat to announce them…

Trystan Blake: May I present King Amanth Drammir of Fydoria… and his son and heir, Prince Tevan Drammir.

King Amanth bows and kisses your mother’s hand as Prince Tevan bows to you.

Prince Tevan: Princess… Truly, you’re lovelier than the Thousand Statues of Fydoria.

Kenna Rys: Prince Tevan… Weren’t those statues destroyed by the Iron Empire?

Prince Tevan: All beauty is fleeting. All the more reason to treasure it.

Kenna Rys: Or fight for it.

Prince Tevan and his father step aside.

Trystan Blake: May I present King Luther Nevrakis, ruler of Abanthus…

King Luther: Queen Adriana.

Trystan Blake: And his son, Prince Marco.

Prince Marco: Bow when you announce us, boy!

Prince Marco strikes Trystan, knocking him to the ground!

Kenna Rys: I’m sorry this servant offended you. Please, don’t let him ruin this moment.

Queen Adriana: Prince Marco, this is Princess Kenna.

Prince Marco: How nice to meet a ruler who knows the value of discipline.

Kenna Rys: How else would we maintain order? Trystan, I believe you have something to say…

Trystan Blake: Forgive me, Prince Marco.

As the other kings arrive, you spot a familiar face among the assembled crowd, watching from a distance. Dominic’s attention turns toward some of the other ladies in attendance…

Kenna Rys: (Maybe I should have dressed up…)

Queen Adriana addresses the assembled crowd.

Queen Adriana: For too long, we have fought amongst each other, squabbling over land while our shared enemy abroad grows stronger. Today, we change that. Today, the Five Kingdoms become one, a clenched fist that will stand strong against all threats. To seal the alliance, please raise a glass with me to a brighter future… for us all!

The assembled royalty cheers! Everyone raises their golden goblets and drinks… everyone but King Luther Nevrakis and his son, Prince Marco.

King Luther: Before my father died, burned alive by the Iron Empire, he told me one thing… Our lands will never be safe from them until we are one. One kingdom. One king. There will be no alliance. There will be only my kingdom.

As Luther speaks, you hear the clank of armor coming down the hall… then the screams of servants.

Queen Adriana: How is this possible? The gates are sealed and the bridge is drawn.

Leon Stirling: The secret passage into the castle…

Queen Adriana: How? The only people who know about it are you, me, Gabriel, and…

King Luther: Your sister, Eloise. Beautiful woman, but far too trusting. She never even suspected her latest lover was one of my spies.

Queen Adriana: No…

Kenna Rys: You monster.

King Luther: She struggled valiantly. But you’d be amazed at the secrets a person spills when you gouge their eyes out.

Luther raises his glass to his lips and takes a sip.

King Luther: Now then. Let’s get this over with.

The doors fly open. Men in strange, glistening armor charge in, leveling crossbows at all the assembled guests!

Nevrakis Soldier: Die!

Queen Adriana: Kenna, look out!

Kenna Rys: I…

Queen Adriana: Kenna, get down!

Adriana pushes you to the ground. As you fall, you see a bolt from a crossbow pierce straight through your mother’s heart. Her eyes go wide as she collapses.

Gabriel Amarne: The queen!

Kenna Rys: Mother!

Queen Adriana: Kenna…

You crawl across the stone floor to her…

Kenna Rys: Mother… Nevrakis will burn for this. I swear it.

Queen Adriana: Be strong, little butterfly… be strong.

Your mother tightly grips your hand as she draws breath for the last time. Tears blur your vision as Dominic pulls you away from her.

Dominic Hunter: Kenna, we have to go…

Kenna Rys: No! I’m not leaving her!

You look up, just in time to see Prince Marco gleefully disarm and cut down another nobleman with a flurry of quick strikes.

Prince Marco: Ha! I’ve had better fights against my stablehands! Pathetic!

Nearby, Gabriel fights back, impaling one Nevrakis soldier with his sword and dropping another with a gauntlet to the skull.

Gabriel Amarne: Kenna, I need to get you out of here. Now!

A Nevrakis soldier bars the door to the outside hallway. He hefts a massive axe. King Amanth tries to flee, but the soldier swings the axe at him, beheading him instantly. Then, the soldier spots you.

Nevrakis Soldier 2: You’re next.

Looking for something to use against the soldier, you grab the turkey leg from the table and toss it at the soldier! The turkey leg bounces off the soldier’s armor…

Dominic Hunter: What, did you think he looked hungry?

The soldier charges toward you, brandishing his axe…

Dominic Hunter: Stay away from her!

Dom removes a hidden dagger from his boot and jams it through the soldier’s eye-slit!

Kenna Rys: I… thank you.

Dominic Hunter: Thank me after we get you safely out of here.

Before you leave the room, you turn back to see a soldier with gold trim on his armor looting your mother’s body.

Kenna Rys: My mother’s signet ring…

Dominic Hunter: Leave it! There’s no time! Your life is more important…

Kenna Rys: Forgive me, Mother.

You take Dom’s hand and run. As you look back one last time, you see the soldier take the ring.

Nevrakis Soldier: This’ll fetch a fine price.

As you flee into the corridor, you find the floor slick with the blood of slaughtered royals and their children.

Kenna Rys: Dead… all of them… the entire nobility, wiped out.

Dominic Hunter: Not all of them…

Wounded and leaning against a column. Prince Tevan tries to fight off a Nevrakis soldier.

Nevrakis Soldier 3: Die, Fydorian scum!

Prince Tevan: Not without a fight…

He brandishes a torch at the soldier.

Kenna Rys: We’ve got to help him!

Gabriel Amarne: It’s too risky. My duty is to protect you, not a Fydorian Prince. You are the Queen of Stormholt now. You must live.

Kenna Rys: I know… but what kind of queen am I if I leave him behind?

Dominic Hunter: We can take Prince Tevan with us. He could be valuable. But it’s up to you, Kenna.

Kenna Rys: We must run now, before it’s too late.

Prince Tevan: No… not like this…

The soldier plunges his sword up to the hilt into Tevan’s chest.

Prince Tevan: Agh!

Kenna Rys: Prince Tevan… I will bring Nevrakis down for this.

You, Dom, and Gabriel turn to flee.

Gabriel Amarne: This is unfortunate. The Fydorians have been our strongest allies. Fydoria custom does dictate that they send 100 soldiers to avenge their rulers.

Kenna Rys: That’s nothing compared to the army Tevan would have provided if… if he were still alive…

As you enter the dungeon, you see three soldiers rushing by, all carrying weapons wet with blood.

Kenna Rys: Wait… that one… he’s the one who stole my mother’s ring!

Dominic Hunter: Which one?

Looking around, you spot a crossbow in the hands of a fallen soldier. You pull it from his grasp.

Kenna Rys: Only one bolt… better choose the right man…

Your bolt catches the soldier right where his helmet meets his armor, plunging into the base of his skull.

Dominic Hunter: Great shot, but that was the wrong soldier, Kenna. The one with your mother’s ring had gold trim on his armor…

Kenna Rys: Then I’m going after him! I’m not leaving without it!

Nevrakis soldiers begin filling the dungeon.

Dominic Hunter: It’s too late for that! We have to get out of here!

Kenna Rys: You’re… you’re right…

You flee down the stairs.

Dominic Hunter: Where do we go now?

Gabriel Amarne: The passage they used to get in… We’ll use it to get out.

Gabriel pushes a brick into the wall. You hear stones shifting and suddenly the rock wall swings open, revealing a secret door.

You and your friends dash in. Gabriel tries to seal the door behind you, but Nevrakis soldiers are already closing in!

Gabriel Amarne: They’ll figure out how to get in. We won’t make it out before they catch us.

Kenna Rys: Then we have no choice but to make our stand and fight.

As you pass through a metal gate, you see Dom hesitate on the other side…

Dominic Hunter: No… we do have a choice. I’m going to hold them off! At least I can slow them down, buy you some time.

Dom slams the gate closed, locking himself in!

Gabriel Amarne: Dominic!

Kenna Rys: Dom! What are you doing? Don’t do this!

Dominic Hunter: It’s the only way. Go!

You hear shouting as the soldiers close in on you.

Kenna Rys: Dom… I have one last thing to say… Be careful. Stay alive, and I promise to do the same.

Dominic Hunter: I won’t let you down. We will see each other again, my friend.

The sound of shouting interrupts you.

Dominic Hunter: Now go, Kenna. Gabriel, keep her safe.

Gabriel Amarne: I will guard her till my last breath.

You and Gabriel flee down the tunnel.

(Now playing as Dominic.)

After leading the soldiers away from Kenna, you emerge from the passage and find yourself in the castle kitchen, the soldiers right behind you!

Nevrakis Soldier 4: You there! Stop!

Nevrakis Soldier 5: Ready to fight?

Dominic Hunter: Nope. Not even a little.

You spin around and take off running, bolting through the cluttered kitchen!

Nevrakis Soldier 4: Get back here!

At the far end, you come to a wide open firepit. Flames crackle over sizzling coals. You’re moving too fast to dodge. You leap boldly over the firepit! And strangely, as you cross through the veil of flame, you feel no heat or pain. The flames almost seem to arc, bending away from you, making a path…

Dominic Hunter: That’s… odd.

You land smoothly on the other side of the pit. Behind you, the soldier scrambles around… And in from of you, tugging on a locked door, is Margaret, the castle cook!

Margaret Blake: Dom! What in the blazes…

You’re cornered!

Margaret Blake: Please, don’t hurt him! He’s a good man. He’s just a servant, like me.

Nevrakis Soldier 4: He was running with the princess and her bodyguard. He’s got to know where they went.

Dominic Hunter: I’ll never talk.

Nevrakis Soldier 4: Then I’ll kill the old woman. See if that loosens your tongue.

Dominic Hunter: No!

The solder slams his fist into Margaret’s head! She falls! He pulls out a dagger and kneels beside her… You feel something stirring inside you. Rage. Fury. Fire. You let your anger explode! The fire burning in the kitchen jumps, the flashing lashing out to twist around the soldiers!

Nevrakis Soldier 4: Hey!

Nevrakis Soldier 5: What the…? AGHHHHH!

They writhe and scream as the fire burns them alive, roasting them in their armor.

Dominic Hunter: What… what the hell did I just do?

You rush to Margaret’s side. You take her hand and she begins to stir…

Margaret Blake: What… what happened? I thought…

Dominic Hunter: I… took care of the soldiers. Don’t ask. Where is everyone?

Margaret Blake: All servants have been ordered to the throne room. So if we mean to live, we must go there now.

Margaret grabs your arm and pulls you along after her.

You and Margaret reach the throne room, where all the castle servants stand terrified. Two servants run up to Margaret.

Rose Blake: Mother! We were so worried about you!

Trystan Blake: What were you doing out there?

Margaret Blake: I was fetching your fool brother Dom here. He’d gone and gotten himself in trouble.

Rose Blake: Our… brother?

Margaret Blake: Listen here. Luther is executing anyone who could be a threat. If he finds out that Dom has trained as a scout and can use a sword, he’ll kill him! So from here on our, he’s your brother, a knuckle-headed servant in the kitchens. Understand?

Dominic Hunter: We’re going to circle back to ‘knuckle-headed’.

Rose Blake: I understand… but what if someone else betrays him?

Margaret Blake: I’ll get the word out. We’re all allies here. The other servants will keep Dom’s secret. And if they don’t… it’ll be moss cabbage every night, so help me!

Nevrakis Soldier 6: Silence, everyone! Quiet down! Your new king is about to speak!

King Luther: Hear me, people of this castle. I know you have long served the former queen. But her reign… has ended.

King Nevrakis gestures and one of his soldiers holds up the head of the queen. Rose whispers to you…

Rose Blake: I think I’m going to be sick.

Dominic Hunter: This is the least of our problems. We’ll be lucky if we get through this night with our own heads still attached.

Rose Blake: Gods…

Luther continues…

King Luther: There are no warriors left among you. My men have seen to that.

Soldiers march in, wheeling carts full of bodies.

King Luther: I give you a choice now. Pledge your loyalty to me…. Or add more carcasses to the pile.

One of the soldiers unsheathes his sword.

Nevrakis Soldier 7: Who’s first?

As the servants line up to take the loyalty pledge, Rose plucks at your sleeve.

Rose Blake: What do we do?

Dominic Hunter: We pledge our loyalty. We bend the knee. We promise Luther our service. And when the time is right… we strike.

(Now playing as Kenna.)

A few minutes later, you’re riding through the forest at night, away from Stormholt. You come to a fork in the path.

Kenna Rys: Where are we going?

Gabriel Amarne: Don’t worry. I’m taking you somewhere safe.

Kenna Rys: And where is that?

Gabriel Amarne: There’s a monastery deep in the woods. I trained with the monks there for years. They’ll hide us from Luther.

Behind you, the lights of Stormholt recede into darkness.

Kenna Rys: My home…

Gabriel Amarne: Don’t despair. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.

Kenna Rys: I promise you, I will see Dominic again. He is everything to me… I know he survived… I feel it. And now King Luther has him. He’s destroyed everything I’ve ever known. I will take Stormholt back. I swear it.

Overall Progress:

Prestige: 5 out of 15

Power: 2 out of 2

Weapons: 0 out of 0

Allies: 5 out of 10

Troops: 2 out of 4

Significant Choices: 5 out of 10

Army Score: 19 out of 41

[badchoosey]

The Freshman, Book One. Chapter 1: Welcome to Hartfeld University

It’s the first day of college, and you walk across a bustling campus…

You: Ugh. This suitcase weighs like a thousand pounds. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought so much--

As you round a corner, you smack right into a guy jogging by!

Chris: Whoa!

You’re both knocked off your feet.

You: I’m so sorry! Are you okay?

Chris: My ego’s a little bruised. If the other guys on the football team saw me get tackled by a pretty girl, they’d never let me forget it.

He offers you a hand and helps you up.

Chris: I’m Chris, by the way. Nice to meet you.

You: Nice to meet you. I’m Tito.

Chris: Tit… for some reason that rings a bell. Huh. So… are you okay? Nothing broken, I hope.

Tito: I’ll be fine. My hand is just a little scraped up.

Chris: Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?

Tito: Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness.

Chris gets down on one knee.

Chris: Tito, will you accept my--

Student: Oh wow! Spontaneous proposal. I gotta get this on camera!

Tito: No! Wait. It’s not like that!

Chris: Uh, maybe I should stand up.

Tito: You think?

Becca: Chris! There you are! Don’t forget about the Kappa house mixer tonight.

Chris: Oh… Becca. Hey. I’d love to go, but I promised my roommates I’d hang out with them.

Becca: Too bad… I promise you’d have a better time with me…

Tito: Uh, we’re kind of in the middle of a conversation…

Becca: It looked to me like you were just leaving.

Tito: Actually--

Just then, Becca drops her iced coffee at your feet, splashing it all over you.

Tito: Seriously?!

Becca: Oops. I’m so clumsy!

Chris: Tito! Your outfit! I’ll go find some napkins.

As soon as he’s gone, Becca leans in close.

Becca: Just so you know, Chris is mine.

Tito: Oh, he’s your boyfriend?

Becca: Not yet. But he will be.

Tito: Oh yeah? News flash… Chris is mine! Chris is clearly way more into me.

Becca: As if that would be possible!

Chris runs up with a stack of napkins.

Chris: This is the best I could do.

Tito: It’s a good start… I’ll just find my dorm and change. See you around, okay?

Chris: You can count on it.

A few minutes later…

Tito: This looks like the place!

You knock on the door, which swings open to reveal…

Tito: Wow… This place is huge!

Kaitlyn: Aaaahhhh! New roomie! You’re finally here… and covered in coffee?

Tito: Haven’t you heard? It’s the hottest look for fall.

Kaitlyn: Oh yeah? Well you’re definitely pulling it off. Seriously, you’re super pretty.

Tito: Thanks. I am super pretty.

Kaitlyn: Not exactly modest, are you?

Tito: Should I be?

Kaitlyn: Good point. Here, let me help with those bags… I’m sure you want to find your room and get out of those coffee-stained clothes.

Kaitlyn leads you through the suite.

TIto: Wait… do we have this whole place to ourselves?

Kaitlyn: Ha! I wish. In case you haven’t head, the school’s in a housing crunch. This is a six-person suite! We’ll be sharing this place with one other girl… and three guys!

Tito: That’s horrible! I can’t believe I have to share this place with a bunch of gross dudes… I feel like I just joined a frat or something.

Kaitlyn: Aw, they’re not so bad. You’ll like them once you meet, I promise. And if they ever get to be too much, we can lock them out of the suite and have a girls’ night. Deal?

Tito: Deal.

Kaitlyn: Here’s your room. Hurry up and change, then we can hit the Welcome Week Fair! Oh, I almost forgot! Every year, they set up a massive slip’n slide in the middle of the fair! It looks super fun… and it’s a great excuse to wear a bikini!

Tito: So… are you going to do it?

Kaitlyn: Definitely. You only get one chance to make a first impression. Sliding through the quad in a sexy swimsuit is a great way to make an entrance. I’m gonna go change! Be back in a sec, okay?

A few minutes later, Kaitlyn returns.

Kaitlyn: Oh! You’re still… wearing the same thing.

Tito: I’m not going to change. The truth is that this awful girl named Becca threw coffee on me within, like, five seconds of meeting me.

Kaitlyn: Yikes. I’m sorry, Tito.

Tito: Don’t be. I’m not. And now I’ll wear this stain as a badge of honor.

Kaitlyn: I think people will just assume that you spilled on yourself though…

Tito: Well… I’ll know the truth! And that’s what counts.

Kaitlyn: You’re an inspiration to us all. No let’s go check out that slip ‘n slide!

Tito: Heh. I’ll let you do the sliding for both of us today, okay?

Outside, you find dozens of people manning booths for various organisations. Onlookers cheer as freshmen coast down the slip ‘n slide!

Kaitlyn: Here goes nothing!

Kaitlyn gets a running start and jumps onto the slip ‘n slide! The crowd goes wild.

Madison: Woo! I’m loving that confidence!

Tripp: Marry me!

She jogs back to you.

Tito: Okay. I have to admit, that looked pretty cool.

Kaitlyn: Thanks. And don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of chances to impress people around here…

After Kaitlyn dries off, the two of you check out the booths at the fair.

Kaitlyn: Let’s see here… a capella? Nah. Can’t sing. Student government? Nah. Don’t care.

Just then, you spot a familiar face at the Kappa Phi Sigma booth…

Tito: Becca.

Becca: Tito. Could you not stand so close to our tent? We don’t want people thinking Kappa Phi Sigma would associate with someone like you.

Kaitlyn: Wow, Tito, is this girl serious?

Tito: Unfortunately.

Becca: Time to move along.

Madison: Yeah, we’re not exactly looking for pledges who are covered in coffee… that is coffee, right?

Tito: The only reason I’m covered in coffee is because Becca threw it on me.

Madison: Sounds like you need to ask yourself why people want to throw coffee at you, Tito.

Tito: What? I-- Ugh, never mind. Let’s get out of here, Kaitlyn.

Becca: That’s what I thought. Buh Bye.

Becca smirks at you and sips an iced coffee through a straw.

Tito: I see you got a new coffee, Becca…

Becca: Are you just going to stand there and look depressing?

Tito: I’ll stand wherever I want.

Becca takes a long sip of her coffee.

Becca: I said buh bye.

Tito: Fine. I’m going. But only because I want to.

As you leave, Kaitlyn flashes you a grimace.

Kaitlyn: A couple of Chanel skirts and they think they’re better than us.

Tito: Are they wrong?

Kaitlyn: Of course they’re wrong. But don’t worry… we’ll have our revenge.

Tito: We will?

Kaitlyn: I don’t know. I was just being dramatic.

Tito: Ahh, gotcha.

As you prepare to head back to your dorm, you look across the quad.

Kaitlyn: See something you like?

Tito: You mean that guy? He’s not my type.

Kaitlyn: A girl with high standards… I like it.

A moment later, the guy walks into a nearby building and disappears from view.

Kaitlyn: Hey, it’s getting dark, and I just got a text from our roommates! They’re all home!

Tito: Sounds like it’s time to head back to the suite.

As the sun sets, you walk into your dorm living room and find a girl standing in front of a painter’s easel.

Abbie: Hey, you must be Tito. I’m Abbie.

You reach forward to shake her hand…

Abbie: Ah! Careful! I’m covered in paint, and I don’t want to ruin your outfit! Er… any more than it’s already been ruined with coffee, I guess.

Tito: Oh, you’re an artist?

Abbie: Wow… no, I’m a long way away from calling myself an artist. I guess I’m… a girl that paints? Anyway, the guys are all up on the roof. I’ll catch up to you later.

Kaitlyn: No way! You’re coming with us, Abbie… you can finish your painting later!

Abbie: I guess I’m close to done… what do you think, Tito?

Tito: Give me a second to fully appreciate your work…

Kaitlyn: So? What’s your review, Tito?

Tito: It looks amazing, Abbie… where’d you learn to paint like that?

Abbie blushes and looks at the floor.

Abbie: I may have spent every lunch period in the art studio during high school… My art teacher was a big influence on me. She really helped me find my style, you know?

Kaitlyn: That’s so cool! The closest thing I had to a mentor in high school was Cosmo.

Tito: Well, I guess we find our inspiration where we can, right?

Kaitlyn: So! Now are you ready to come up to the roof with us, Abbie?

Abbie: Sure… but only if I get to pick the music.

Kaitlyn: Your wish is my command. Now let’s go!

You and the girls head up the stairs…

Kaitlyn: Nice. We’ve got an amazing view!

Abbie: Ready to meet the guys. This is--

Chris: Actually… we’ve already met.

Tito: Chris? You’re my roommate?