Chapter Text
I woke up late. Again.
The sun shone angrily from the window to my right. Whose stupid idea it was to put the bed here? I threw an arm over my eyes.
“Amelia, get up,” Mal said without looking up, the quiet clicking of her keyboard my only alarm. She worked from home—and I do not. Lucky her.
Still groggy, I tiptoed around my sister’s mini-office and went outside the room. My cats howled, trying to ambush me for food. I howled back.
“Mal!” I shouted, heading for the bathroom. “Can you feed them? I promise I’ll feed them after work!”
Mal groaned. I pretended not to hear it and started my day.
Before I knew it, I was done getting ready. No—not quite. I checked my reflection in the mirror and smiled. Satisfied that it looked genuine enough, I opened the door.
Ugh. Here we go.
***
“Amelia! Good morning! Sweat or shower?” asked Dani, my senior.
There was a running gag at work: guess why my hair was wet. Was it because I didn’t have time to dry my hair, or was it because I ran from the station to the office? It was actually a little funny. If this was happening to somebody else, I might have laughed. But since I was the joke, it was only half funny. No—a quarter funny. An eighth?
“Ha-ha. It’s the shower today,” I answered with a bright smile on my face, like how I practiced earlier.
“You lost today,” Dani said, pointing a finger towards John, another senior of mine. “Coffee’s on you!”
John laughed. I laughed. We were all thrilled, apparently. I went to buy coffee with them like it was a ritual. Like it was really okay.
Later that afternoon, the air-conditioner was still humming like it was begging someone to fix it when Dani came running in with pastries. Strawberry-flavored ones—the ones I couldn’t eat. I tried, really. In fact, if my taste buds had their own mind, they would probably rebel and protest. Form their own union.
Dani knew.
Our manager beckoned. “Amelia, let’s eat!”
The sweet and sour smell—and smoke—wafted over to me as I walked. Smoke? Maybe something grilled? I looked at the table and saw only strawberry-flavored pastries. I must have imagined it.
The air thrummed with excitement. Everyone else wasn’t as picky as me.
“I’m not hungry!” I announced.
“Dani,” Andy, our youngest, frowned at the pastries, “don’t tell me you forgot that Amelia doesn’t eat these?”
Really, just so kind. I hope her dinner’s yummy later.
“Democratic country, girl. You’ll live.” John said to me with food in his mouth. “Just buy something you like from the third floor.”
Buy something while he was eating something for free.
As usual, I only pressed my lips tight, even though his words stung. I remembered just a week ago, when we all agreed to have ramen for our afternoon snack. But since Dani didn’t like ramen, we begrudgingly ate sandwiches instead. Dani was now humming at the head of the table, enjoying her strawberry cheesecake.
Envy almost crept in.
“Andy! Let’s share,” I said, keeping my face neutral. “You get the part with the most strawberries.”
Only two hours left on my shift. That was nothing. A year of strawberries was something I had come to tolerate.
John was right. I’ll live.
***
Relief settled in as we lined up for the biometrics, work done for the day. I came out of the elevator, saying my farewells to Dani and John when I saw Anna—my best friend—standing by the entrance. I was used to her spontaneous visits, but I prefer things to be planned.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t you want to go home yet?”
“Missed you too,” she shot back, tone smug. “Also, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t get out of the house. I’m doing Mal a favor.”
Once a year, Mal would ask Anna to drag me out and make sure I’d come home late. Anna had found it odd at first, but she eventually understood. And me? I’d only just learned not to take it personally. Same as every year.
Anna looped her arms through mine, pulling me somewhere loud and crowded again—for sure. I wished I had someone like Anna for Anna.
A few cars passed by, the smoke thick enough to make me cough. I covered my mouth, slapping my chest a few times to ease my breathing.
“Hey, you okay?” Anna asked, tucking my hair behind my ears.
I only nodded at her, smiling, wondering why she wasn’t reacting the same way. It wasn’t the normal kind of smoke. I’d know that.
Anna’s eyes stayed on me, but she knew when not to push. “We’re going to an escape room!”
Oh, not crowded. Fine.
“I’m actually excited,” I deadpanned and got inside her car.
She laughed, and successfully whisked me away from my office worries.
***
“Bye Ames!” Anna said from the driver seat as I escaped her. “I repeat, don’t give all your coins to the homeless or you’ll be one too!”
I just shooed her away.
My cats were already howling as I turned the hallway to our apartment. That was the best thing about owning cats. Not cleaning the litter. Not breaking up cat fights. Not even bath time. It was the incessant meowing once you come home. It probably meant, “What have you brought home, slave?” in cat language. But, I’d take that over nonchalance.
I opened the door to Cookie, my youngest, hissing at the couch. I gave him some pats, but he hissed at me. After a few failed attempts at destroying our only couch, he strolled to another part of the living room, like he couldn’t be bothered.
Yep. My daily dose of cat weirdness.
I shook my cats’ food container, earning me a chorus of meows from them—music to my ears, honestly. And just like that, my normal, nightly routine had commenced.
Later on, when I was eating my dinner, I found myself reading through a comment section—whether what Eren did was right or wrong. It was both.
“Ames! Lock up!”
I guess we’re okay now. Mal didn’t eat with me, but at least she was talking.
I went to pick the cats up—Bambam, Lilith and Cookie—from the couch when a blinding light suddenly flared around me. The cats darted from the couch. All I could do was snap my eyes shut.
It was warm. Like a lightbulb left on for too long.
There was buzzing. Like the air-conditioner at work.
I shielded my ears from the sound.
Then, it was gone.
The first thing I noticed was the smell. Smoke.
Was there a fire?
No. I could hear footsteps, unhurried.
Footsteps? Mal? My cats? No. It sounded heavy.
I opened my eyes to people wearing… costumes. Insignias, a sun over a castle, stitched on the right side. Not modern. Definitely not jeans and a t-shirt.
They had cloaks on.
Am I that tired? How come I’m dreaming already?
Some people were writing things down using quill pens, the sharp pointy ends making scratching noises on the parchment. The feathers on their pens looked a little silly to me.
Tables were scattered with half-eaten loaves of bread, maps, and scrolls—actual scrolls—tossed around like scratch paper.
Blood rushed to my head. My pulse raced.
Is this really a dream?
I closed my eyes and pinched my arm, trying to wake myself up, hoping the sound of Cookie’s meows would greet me.
But no. Still here.
My heart ached.
Not the good kind.
I was freezing, only wearing shorts and a t-shirt. No bra. I instantly covered my chest, trying to muster some dignity and composure. Some guy wrapped his cloak around me, shielding me from the cold.
Decent people offer jackets—in this case, cloaks—to people who are cold, right?
With that sense of normalcy, literal warmth came back to me. It confirmed that this was real, not a hallucination. No—this wasn’t because I had watched too much anime.
I felt something in the air, invisible and curious, clinging to me. Curious too, I reached out and felt static surrounding my hand. Like the shock you’d get when you stupidly touch a socket with wet hands—sharp. Wrong.
My hand twitched.
What is this?
People started murmuring, and not the type where they think someone was awesome. It was the one that said: “Oh no, we’re worried, we’re scared, what the hell is happening?”
I looked around and settled on a person who seemed calm enough to assess the situation. He had a belt around his waist that held a book at his side—it looked too familiar.
The man stepped forward, back straight and chin up.
“We’re not supposed to summon a human here,” he said to me, eyes apologetic but guarded, filling me with dread.
His words hit like caffeine. I was jolted awake, enough to realize that this was nowhere near my couch.
I don’t belong here.
— end of Chapter One —