home

search

[Book 3] [154. Still Charlie]

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Lucy murmured gently, shifting closer and resting her warm hand on my trembling shoulder. “I get it. Just tell me what you can, okay? Whatever you’re comfortable with. We’ll figure it out. I’m happy you finally found the courage to talk with me.”

  I glanced up at her, my vision swimming as tears blurred the figure of the blonde Asian woman into a whirlpool of colors.

  Her fake blonde strands stood out the most, like stubborn rays of sunlight fighting through a rainstorm. Words felt too small, too clumsy, so I leaped from the mattress and hugged her fiercely, burying my face into her jacket. She yelped in surprise, but quickly melted into a warm laugh.

  “Oookay, John, that was... You wouldn’t have done that last month.”

  “No,” I murmured into her shoulder, feeling the comforting scent of detergent, rain, and just a hint of perfume. “I’ve changed a lot… since we last saw each other.”

  She gently squeezed back, her voice softening to a whisper. “I noticed. But you’re still you, beneath it all.”

  “You don’t even know my new name…” I said, pulling back just enough to offer her a mischievous smile, forcing some bravado back into my shaky voice. “Go ahead, guess.”

  She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Lilian?”

  “Nope,” I shook my head, smile widening. “Try again.”

  “Kira?” she said, eyes lighthearted now.

  “Nooope, it’s Charlie!” I announced proudly, expecting a laugh or at least a smile.

  But instead, her expression softened further, concern overtaking amusement. “Okay, John... Charlie. I hear the bravado loud and clear, but I can also hear the hurt. You don’t have to perform for me. What’s really going on in that brilliant, chaotic head of yours?” She gently pulled me back into the hug.

  It felt incredible, comforting in a way I’d forgotten existed. I let myself sag into her embrace, absorbing the warmth like a cat in a sunbeam.

  “I… I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” I sighed against her shoulder. “Deflecting with jokes and sarcasm.”

  “Yes,” Lucy said softly, lightly stroking my back. “But you don’t have to with me. You can tell me anything.”

  I inhaled deeply, her familiar scent grounding me. “Okay, so… everything started the day Rimelion had that massive launch…”

  And then it all spilled out. I told her everything—well, almost everything. I left out the whole complicated mess of time travel because, honestly, my credibility was already paper-thin. I spoke of how Lucas had shamelessly turned my avatar into his dead girlfriend, my meeting with the stupid now Prince, the haunting confrontation with my mother, and the chaos with Riker. I even shared the prince sealed within the ring, the frantic preparations, and finally, the frightening battle itself.

  As I spoke, Lucy listened without interruption, her expression never pausing, her hand never leaving mine. And for the first time in what felt like forever, that deep, unsettled feeling eased a little, lifting just enough to let me breathe.

  “So…” I let myself collapse onto the mattress, the soft surface embracing me with a gentle, comforting sag. “I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?” I puffed a breath upward, blowing away a rebellious strand of hair that had dared to fall over my eyes.

  Secretly, it felt kinda fun.

  Lucy raised the now half-empty wine bottle to her lips, sipping thoughtfully, her eyes softly gleaming in the dim, golden light filtering through the clock tower’s intricate mechanism. “You faced all that alone?” Her voice held both amazement and gentle admonition. “Anyone would be a wreck after everything you’ve been through. It’s okay not to be okay right now, you know.”

  I glanced away, unable to hold her piercing stare. “I had help,” I mumbled, my voice softer than I intended, almost like admitting weakness.

  She shifted slightly, her foot stretching across the narrow space to rest gently against mine. It was just a simple touch, but it felt like an anchor, keeping me from drifting away into the chaos inside my head. Her voice grew tender. “It sounds like you’re mourning John, and that’s okay. He was a huge part of you, wasn’t he?”

  I took a shaky breath, considering her words. “Yeah… I guess I lost myself, in a way. But in another…” I paused, the memory vivid as if it were yesterday. “Remember when I told you about the banner, the snowflake one flapping against the sky?”

  Her eyes widened, sparkling with curiosity and warmth. “Of course!”

  “Well, at that exact moment, I realized John was truly gone. And I was Charlie, fully, irrevocably Charlie. I even had a choice to turn back. But… I enjoy being Charlie.” The confession came out quietly but confidently, like finally admitting a secret held too long.

  She let out a sudden, bright laugh, throwing her head back slightly. “I remember you stealing my skirt in high school,” she teased, puffing out her cheeks in exaggerated indignation. “You actually dared to wear it in public!”

  I feigned offense, my voice climbing into a playful whine. “Hey, you agreed to that! It was your idea!”

  Lucy nodded, grinning mischievously. “Yeah, and you were cute as hell back then. But now…” She shook her head slowly, her smile softening into something warmly affectionate.

  “Now you’re on a completely different level of adorable. I genuinely just want to hug you constantly. Is this the same body you had after Jerry changed you, before… you know, the whole magical ritual thing? Just the ears changed?”

  “Not exactly.” With a sudden surge of playful bravado, I leaped up and promptly planted myself firmly onto her lap, relishing the satisfying squeak of surprise she gave. “Haha! I can do this now!”

  She rolled her eyes dramatically, but her fingers immediately began combing gently through my hair, sending comforting tingles along my scalp. “Brat,” she murmured affectionately. “So, what changed?”

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  “I was basically a perfect replica of the original Charlie in reality… Earth. But she made a few tweaks to her avatar, you know, to look extra beautiful or whatever,” I shrugged casually. “And now that’s me. Well, a slightly more tan, somewhat sassier version, but meh.”

  Without warning, Lucy’s fingers moved to tickle my sides, startling a squeaky laugh out of me. “Hey!” I protested, squirming helplessly.

  She ignored my outrage, her eyes bright and full of playful challenge. “Are you still a princess, though?” she teased. Her voice dropped slightly, earnestness breaking through the playful facade. “Can I be your knight?”

  “Lucy…” It was my turn to roll my eyes, exaggerating the motion dramatically. “Weren’t you always the paladin?”

  She shrugged, but her gaze grew distant, softly dreamy beneath the flickering candlelight. “Can I, though?”

  A teasing smirk curled my lips as old memories resurfaced. “You always wanted that title in real life. Remember when that stuck-up prince rejected your application when we were eighteen?”

  Lucy scoffed theatrically. Her cheeks puffed out in fury. “Hmpf!” Then she attacked my sides again with ruthless tickling, laughter bubbling warmly between us, chasing away the shadows and worries, at least for a moment.

  We finished the entire bottle while I undid the tangled threads of my recent adventures, each sip of wine making the tale smoother and softer.

  Lucy laughed, gasped, and occasionally swore, reacting just as I hoped—like the best audience ever. Eventually, she ducked downstairs to fetch another bottle, and we settled back into our cozy nest beneath the tower’s aged clockwork.

  “Okay, hold up,” she said, eyes narrowing with playful suspicion as she uncorked the fresh bottle. “Explain something to me. How exactly are you even here right now?”

  “Oh, right, that.” I took another generous gulp, savoring the warmth spreading through my chest. “I think I can come back whenever I want, but… there’s a catch. You see, my soul was already weird, and now… Well, let’s just say it’s a lot weirder.”

  Lucy nodded earnestly, her eyes serious yet gentle, reflecting the flickering light that danced across the old brick walls. “Of course there’s a catch. Souls, magic, simulations… I don’t understand half of it. But I know you. You’re real, and that’s all that matters.”

  Emotion surged again, threatening to spill from my eyes, but I forced it back with another swallow of wine. “Lucy, I think… I think I’m still in Rimelion. Right this second.”

  She blinked, confusion creasing her brows. Then she pinched my arm sharply.

  “Hey!” I protested, rubbing the spot with a mock glare. “That actually hurt!”

  “You’re definitely here,” she insisted, glancing skeptically at the wine bottle. “Or I’ve officially had too much.”

  “No, what I mean is,” I sighed deeply, fumbling for words, “my body’s permanently there now. A resident of Rimelion. Right now, I’m probably curled up asleep in a tent while I’m simultaneously here, drinking with you.”

  Lucy gazed at me, her stare full of concern. “Yeah, that… sounds complicated. Speaking of complications, how exactly are we going to save you?”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, I glanced away, the reality of my situation suddenly pressing in on me. “Charlie?” Her voice softened.

  “I’m headed to Altandai,” I whispered, each word tasting bitter despite the sweet wine.

  “The DLC city,” she groaned softly, recognition flickering across her face. “I mean, theoretically, we could get there by traveling across the desert, right?” Her voice lifted hopefully, but I just curled tighter into the alcove, knees pulled protectively to my chest.

  Lucy moved swiftly, sliding in beside me and wrapping me tightly in her arms. Her embrace was warm and firm, a reassuring felling amid my growing storm of dread.

  “Yeah, I know,” she murmured softly into my hair. “But there has to be a way. Maybe we can find a caravan, or something?”

  “Someone could probably reach me within a few weeks,” I admitted quietly, the uncertainty thick in my voice. “But…”

  Lucy squeezed me harder, her voice fierce yet gentle. “It’s okay, Charlie. We’ll figure this out. You’ll claim your fragment, you hear me?”

  I swallowed hard, turning my face slightly against her shoulder. “And if I die there… I die here, too. Forever.”

  She pulled back slightly, just enough to pinch my cheek firmly, drawing a startled yelp from me. “HEY!” I protested, puffing out my cheeks indignantly.

  Her eyes sparkled mischievously, but her voice was tender. “Lil’ Char,” she whispered, smoothing my hair softly, “you’re not alone. We’re with you, in both worlds. Me, Lucas, Kit, Roberto or… Patrick, and your new friends like Lisa, Lola. I want to meet them someday. Do you hear me? We’re all in this together.”

  I looked up, meeting her gaze, feeling a fresh surge of hope swell gently inside me. “Yeah,” I whispered back, offering a fragile, grateful smile. “Together.”

  “So, my beautifully tan friend, what’s our grand plan now?” Lucy asked, her smile warming the room more than the sunlight creeping in through the gaps in the bell tower’s worn wooden slats.

  “Hope you’re feeling better, because morning already arrived a few hours ago.” She gestured toward the soft glow outside, emphasizing my poor grasp of passing time.

  I groaned lightly, checking in with my internal chaos meter. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the absolute dumpster fire it usually was after a long emotional purge and alcohol session. “Lucy is the best,” I mumbled, immediately feeling heat creep up my cheeks as I realized I’d said it out loud.

  She laughed, her eyes crinkling playfully. “Aha! Admit it! Wine’s better than whiskey!”

  My eyes shot open in dramatic protest, and I shook my head vigorously enough that my balance betrayed me. With an exaggerated yelp, I tumbled forward, landing squarely against Lucy’s soft chest. “Ouchie!” I exclaimed, but the cushiony impact left my head resting comfortably on her lap. “Never,” I whispered defiantly, squinting up at her.

  Her laughter echoed gently in the small space. “Well, if I had any lingering doubts about you, Lil’ Char, this moment wiped them all away. You’re still completely John, only cuter, with weird ears and way better hair.”

  “Lil’ Char?” I muttered, feigning a scowl even as a smile tugged at my lips. I closed my eyes, savoring the comfort of the moment.

  Lucy brushed strands of my hair gently away from my face, her fingers soothing. “Can’t exactly call you Johnny Boy now, can I? Besides, Lil’ Char suits you perfectly.”

  I sighed softly. “I suppose.” My voice grew quieter, mixed with honest vulnerability. “I was stupid for being afraid to talk to you. I mean…”

  Her hand moved tenderly along my cheek. “No, it makes sense. You felt like you’d lost a big part of yourself and were scared of what that meant, especially facing me. But I understand, okay? Completely. And I’m not hurt. Not even a tiny bit.”

  Relief flooded through me, and I reached up to hug her awkwardly from my sprawled position. Her belly felt warm and soft beneath her jacket. “Soft belly,” I teased, smirking mischievously into the fabric. Lucy was never actually fat, but teasing her about imaginary extra weight was always one of my favorite pastimes.

  That playful jab earned me another sharp pinch. “Oww!” I protested, giggling. “Fair enough, fair enough!”

  She leaned closer, her voice growing serious. “Just focus on surviving, Lil’ Char. I’ll do my best to reach Altandai and find you.”

  “Right,” I sighed, stretching out and feeling the pleasant ache of relaxation finally settling into my bones. “Ideally, I’d become some noble’s maid. The place has mansions everywhere. Someone must be hiring.” Another groan escaped me. “But first… wolf people.”

  Lucy burst into giggles again, her laughter causing her thighs beneath me to bounce gently. “I still can’t believe you got judged as a mass murderer. You! And the wolves are so adorable!”

  I rolled my eyes dramatically, shuddering at the memory. “Adorable until they’re covered in mud. Trust me, that’s a horror you never forget. Honestly, as if getting captured wasn’t enough suffering… I have to deal with wolf-themed maniacs.”

  Lucy nodded thoughtfully, humor still sparkling in her eyes. “Probably intentional on the god’s part, if you ask me…”

  Whatever she intended to say next dissolved abruptly as reality rudely reasserted itself. I jolted awake on the uncomfortable tent floor, the harsh voice of Dame Karzi cutting through the morning air like a rusty blade.

  “Wakey, wakey, girly! We travel!” Her boot nudged me roughly. Gentle by her standards, but enough to hurt.

  I groaned, rolling upright and feeling the loss of Lucy’s warmth keenly. “Yes, Dame Karzi,” I muttered, bracing myself for another day of misery.

Recommended Popular Novels