Chapter 3: — no god.

I push open the door to my dorm room and a creature from the depths of ground pounces at me, "Oh God! My Winona, my sweetie!"

"Your god is dead, trust me, I know," I grumble, as the woman pulls me in a numbing hug, regardless of the misery of my state and the pristine of hers. She's a white creature, as pale as the snow on the ice caps probably. I don't think she's walked a day on God's green Earth and seen the sun. She's only been tunneling for all of her life. She knows nothing but kindness and apologies, as far as I have observed in the two days that I have been here.

"Oh sush now! God will not be kind to those who denounce Him," she pulls away and pats my head as if I were her cat. I realise, in that moment, that she must be a church girl for sure. She has the baby blue eyes and icy blonde hair for that, with cheeks so pink and lips so innocent that never a lie had been uttered out of them.

"I don't think that's how it works. And your god cannot be kind to anyone," I scoff at her as she pulls me inside our shared dorm room. The only perk of me being reincarnated as a side character in this godawful book: living with hot, innocent, girls.

Because most girls in romance novels are as innocent as a newly generated npc.

"Okay, fine, whatever you say," she shrugs, walking up to my closet, out of three other closets. "I don't want to argue after all that you've been through today," she takes out a fresh set of clothes for me as my heart flutters in a word for her.

Wifey.

I sniffle dramatically and walk up to my closet mirror. Our dormitory is a classic, with two beds atop a workspace on the opposite sides of eachother. Each bed was worked in hardwood, but a different colour. The white creature had a pink bed, my other dormmate had a yellow bed, my missing dormmate had a red bed and I had a green one.

Beyond the beds and workspace, to the left, was a closet and changing area opposite to the bathroom on the left. I stand in front of the floor length mirror, cringing at the sight before me.

"My uniform is ruined," I sob, holding my head in my hands. The white shirt is drenched and stained in different colours. The black of the marker on my stomach has bleed into the white of my shirt. My plaid skirt is wrinkled and covered in suspicious food stains and smells. There is glitter in my hair— I jump closer to the mirror, sticking my face against it to see my poor scalp drenched in multicolour sparkles.

"Fuck, dude, when did this happen?!" I cry out, pulling at my hair and roots. "This will never go away," I grumble, mind already formulating an evil plan to drench everyone else's heads in glitter as well.

"Oh its salvagable, c'mon, give me—" the white creature pulls me by the shoulder and forces me to face her. She leans closer, unbuttoning my shirt, her face pressed close to a neck and chest even I am foreign to.

"Woah, woah, human," I carefully push her head away, "No, precious, I'll do it myself— you just wash 'em," I grin, walking past her to the bathroom.

I strip, miss my dick, and continue to scrub myself under the shower. The black marker seemed like a long cause, if not, a permanent one. There was colorful glitter all over the bathroom floor now, and surely, on my feet as well. I stay for as long as the water allows, quite disgusted to go out without washing away today's shenanigans.

It wasn't my fault that I failed Weekly Evaluations. It wasn't my fault that I became The Plaything this week. I'll accept it, for now, because the next week, it certainly won't be me.

I grit my teeth, trying to remember which plot point we might be on.

"If the system has begun..." I whisper under the shower, the water runs into my mouth, "then it is about time the male lead and female lead have their first conflict." I tsk, "The universe really chose the most opportune moment to send me here."

Maybe if I can provide salvation to these miserable characters, I might get my dick back. I mean, I might go back to who I was. I was rather handsome in my day, I trace a hand on my lost stubble now. It's just a smooth chin, almost pointy and bony. This malnourished character.

Knock! Knock!

"Get out, I need to take a piss!" A voice shouts beyond the door.

"Hold it. I'm suffering here," I shout back, quite honest with all the shampoo still setting in my hair to get the glitter out.

"You'll shrivel up at this point. You'll be a dry fruit!!" She bangs the door.

"Chill out and use the public ones!" I cry.

"I'll pee in your bed first," she threatens and I know she will.

She's my yellow bed dormmate, bit unhinged in everything she does. The first time I met her, she had brought back a chunk of hair, stolen from some hair saloon's trashbin and she declared to do voodoo on all the strands in order to extract revenge on her arsehole of a boss who also went to that hair salon.

And, a bedspread on the balcony, five lit candles set up in the pattern of a star, a hand stitched doll and some made up spells later, we got the news that her boss had met with an accident and will be temporarily replaced.

I knew, right about in that moment, to take her very seriously for the rest of my short life here.

I click the door unlock, "Come in, my eyes our closed so you better keep yours close as well," I grumble. I feel a presence rush past the shower curtains and turn around in order to not threaten her privacy.

"What are you on about, sweet cheeks, there's nothing you have that is new to me," she sighs from over the toilet, "Oh I love taking a piss. It is so relaxing," she all but moans.

"Oh shut up! I'm still here! Have you no modesty?!" These girls, I swear.

"Gee, okay Blaire."

Ah. That's the name of the white creature! I felt like I knew it, but I couldn't remember it for the life of me.

"Do you know when our third roommate will be back?" I ask, washing the shampoo away. My eyes are still close and I hear her strolling around the bathroom now.

"She's out on an international scholarship, so probably not for the semester."

When I feel that the shampoo has successfully washed away, I work on getting the marker and colours off and sigh.

"You were the Plaything today."

"I will be the Plaything for the rest of the week."

There's a momentary pause.

"Try not to be, It won't get any better."

Wow, I did not expect kindness from unhinged yellow bed person.

"Mhm, why do you say?"

"Because I want to vent as well."

I almost bit my tongue on how suddenly and casually she approached it.

"What the hell dude?!"

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" She laughs, "It's 'cause you'll keep missing work. You cannot miss work. We need to pay up for being poor," she sighs. I open my eyes to find her face pressed in the bathroom mirror, pinching out stray eyebrows.

Ah, I work?

"Monet had you assigned to two customers yesterday. Nobody could replace you," she whispers and I smile at that. Being called irreplaceable by a pretty girl was fun. She's a brunette with shoulder length hair, straight as I was back on my Earth. Tall, unlike the average consensus and slender in all the right places.

"Why? I'm sure you would have done just fine," I smile, admiring her through the shower curtain.

"Babe, I don't play the violin. I clean after they are done eating. What are you even on about?" She snorts in exasperation.

Ah, I play the violin. Well, not me, but my body does. The other owner of this humble dwelling had actually a good way to make ends meet. I wonder what happened to it...?

"Sorry, it slipped my mind. Ah- pass me the towel please, will you?" I swiftly change the topic, holding my hand out of the curtains. A lump of fabric greets it momentarily. "Thanks, I'll — uh, I'll be there, no, how long does it usually— no, I'll see what I can do!" I announce with hitches and glitches and she leaves with a simple,

"Mhm, you do that."

Now I just need to figure out my life, which isn't really my life only.

comment 0 comment

Vote

SEND GIFT

Load failed, please RETRY