Wish woke to sunlight stabbing through her curtains like an accusation.
Her brain felt foggy. Her hair was whipped across her face in tangled knots, sticking to her cheek, her lips, everywhere. She groaned and tried to move, but her body protested every shift.
What happened yesterday?
The marketplace. The shouting. Oh god, the shouting.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the memories away, but they crashed back anyway—her standing in the middle of the street, screaming about her curves and her ass while an entire crowd stared.
"Kill me now," she muttered into her pillow.
A sharp knock rattled her door before it swung open.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Vish's voice dripped with sarcasm as she stepped inside, arms crossed. "Nice to see you finally decided to rejoin the living."
Wish cracked one eye open. Her sister stood in the doorway, dressed and put together, looking annoyingly perfect while Wish felt like she'd been run over by a cart.
"Go away," Wish mumbled.
"I would've lectured you yesterday," Vish said, stepping over empty bowls scattered across the floor, "but I found you passed out like this." She gestured at the mess surrounding Wish's bed—empty dishes, half-eaten snacks, three different drink containers, crumpled napkins.
Wish groaned louder.
"Seriously, Wish. If you're going into depression and start acting crazy, we'll have to make you start therapy sessions." Vish kicked aside a bowl with her foot, frowning. "This is pathetic."
"I'm not depressed," Wish said, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm strategizing."
"Strategizing what? How to become a hermit?"
Before Wish could answer, Vish's gaze landed on something beside the bed. She bent down, picking up a leather-bound book left open on the floor. Her eyebrows shot up.
"What is this?"
Wish's head snapped up. Her eyes widened in horror.
The book's page was clearly visible: How to Capture a Man's Heart: What to Do and What Not to Do.
Wish stared at her sister like she'd just seen Satan himself preaching the gospel in a temple.
"Wish," Vish said slowly, holding up the book. "What the hell is this?"
"Nothing!" Wish scrambled upright, lunging for the book. "Give it back!"
Vish jerked it away, holding it above her head. "You're reading romance advice manuals now? Seriously?"
"It's research!" Wish stretched, trying to grab it, but Vish danced backward, flipping through pages.
"'Chapter Three: The Art of Flirtation,'" Vish read aloud, grinning wickedly. "'Smile sweetly and bat your lashes—'"
"Give it back!" Wish launched herself off the bed, nearly tripping over a bowl. She snatched the book from Vish's hands and clutched it to her chest protectively.
Vish laughed, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm desperate," Wish corrected, shoving the book under her pillow. "There's a difference."
"I'm trying to survive," Wish added, not looking at her sister's face.
"By learning how to flirt?" Vish crossed her arms. "Wish, I love you, but you need to get your priorities straight. You almost died yesterday. You should be worrying about spending your days happily and making memories, yet here you are worried about capturing some man's heart?"
Wish opened her mouth to explain—that yes, actually, capturing a man's heart was exactly what would keep her alive—but the words died in her throat.
She couldn't explain. Not without sounding insane.
Vish's expression softened slightly. "Look, I get it. You're stressed. But causing a scene in the marketplace? Really?"
Wish's face burned. "You heard about that?"
"Heard about it?" Vish pulled something from her pocket—a flat, six-inch blue crystal slab, her vision crystal. She tapped it twice, and a translucent screen materialized in the air between them, hovering like a window made of light.
Wish's stomach dropped.
The screen displayed a gossip site—BeastRealm Buzz—and right there on the front page was a video. Her video. Standing in the marketplace, arms spread wide, screaming about her curves and her body while dozens of people stared.
The headline read: "Mystery Woman Declares Herself 'Sexiest in the Realm'—Viral Meltdown or Confidence Queen?"
Below it, the view counter climbed in real-time: 1,347,892... 1,347,903... 1,347,918...
"One point three million views," Vish said flatly. "And counting."
Wish wanted the floor to swallow her whole.
"Oh no," Wish whispered.
"Oh yes," Vish said. "You're trending. Congratulations."
"I want to die."
"Too late for that." Vish walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, her tone gentler now. "Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but you can't keep doing this. The tantrums, the isolation, the—" she gestured at the book under the pillow, "—whatever crisis you're having."
Wish looked up, her eyes stinging. "You don't understand."
"Then explain it to me."
Wish opened her mouth, then closed it. How could she explain? That she was trapped in a story? That the plot itself wanted her dead? That if she didn't somehow make a deity fall for her, she'd be erased?
She couldn't.
Vish sighed, standing up. "Mom's calling you downstairs for breakfast. And there's news—something important." She moved toward the door, pausing at the threshold. "Get cleaned up. And Wish?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever you're dealing with, we're family. You don't have to do it alone."
"What kind of news does Mom have for me?" Wish asked as she tried to gather her messy hair into a ponytail.
"The kind you need to hear from her, not me." Vish paused at the threshold. "Don't take too long. And please, try to look presentable."
The door clicked shut behind her.
Wish sat there for a moment, staring at nothing. Then, slowly, she reached under her pillow and pulled out the book again, flipping it open.
Chapter Five: When All Else Fails—Be Yourself.
"Be myself," she muttered. "Great advice for someone whose 'self' is apparently a walking disaster."
She groaned, running her hand through her hair roughly.
Wish sat there for another moment, then dragged herself out of bed, stepping over bowls and bottles, and stumbled toward the bathroom.
She pushed the bathroom door open and stepped inside. The tiles were cool under her bare feet. She moved toward the sink, reaching for a cloth to wash her face.
That's when the chime echoed in her skull.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Translucent text appeared before her eyes, hovering in the air.