I, Kacey Wilson, was living the high life! At the age of 27, I was finally invited to attend a party for the elites. Nobles born into riches wanted to get to know me! That's what I had thought before I foolishly entered the fire. That's literally what I did. I walked into the fire, causing my own death. I may have exaggerated a bit and told a noble I had some fire resistance. They wanted me to prove it as a cruel joke. 

I could easily wrap any man around my finger, but I met my match the day I died. This exception came in the deadly (literally) gorgeous form of Vincent Cameron. Throughout that whole night, he had coolly unraveled all of me until nothing was left. 

“It appears your charms have failed you today.” These were the last words I heard before my own screams grew silent in my ears.

The pain of burning felt like forever until finally I felt a calming warmth. The flames had turned into flickering candles surrounding me. Although my surroundings appeared mundane, I knew I had died. How could I not?! If I were born again, I would take down Vincent Cameron without hesitation! If I were born as a high noble, he'd regret not groveling at my feet when he had the chance. 

“Oh?”

I swung myself toward the direction of the amused voice. There was nothing but lit candles surrounding me. I looked up and asked, “Is that you, God?”

A laugh came from the same direction as the voice from earlier. It was a man. He had a nice laugh, but he wouldn't stop laughing. I can visualize the tears he wiped away as he tried to control himself. Annoying. I crossed my arms and faced the direction I assumed the man was in and said, “Whatever, so who are you?” 

A pause and finally, “My name’s Gerald Smith.” He sighed. "At least, it used to be.”

I could hear movement, as if someone had lain down on the floor. He must have been here for a while. I tried walking toward where I thought the man was, but something pushed me back. 

Stolen novel; please report.

“I don't know how long I've been here, but to hear someone curse Vincent means it hasn't been that long.” He spoke as I heard him shift around a bit. "I can't move from this spot, and any attempt—"

“Pushes you back into the center," I say to confirm his statement. “Yes, I tried to walk out.”

He laughs again. Glad I'm some stranger's entertainment. I flop down on the floor, annoyed. Then I realize the silence. Had Gerald disappeared? 

Finally, I heard movement, and then he asked, “What's your name?”

“Kacey. Kacey Wilson," I breathed out. 

He had gone silent again. I am assuming he is thinking about something. I understood when he asked what might be a rude question.

“How did you die, Kacey?” 

I realized I didn't really mind answering as soon as it was asked. But I felt ashamed to explain all the details, so I gave a simple answer.

“I went through the experience of being burned alive.”

He responded with a whispered, "Brutal," and sighed. “Well, I drowned.”

He announced it with such a frivolous attitude; I could only give a lame “Oh…”

"Not as extreme as someone burning alive, but still pretty extreme." I can hear him chuckle, his voice trembling, as he continues his story. "Vincent and I didn't know each other well. But, for some reason, he hated me enough to have me kidnapped and thrown into a river. And he wanted me to know it was him who did it."

I realized it was my turn to be amused. “No. I think you win the award for most horrible death.” I stretched out a bit because I started to feel kind of stiff. “I walked into the flames on my own because Vincent dared me to. I know, very stupid. But I didn't like how he looked down on me.”

“He does have an uppity, evil air about him that makes you want to challenge him.”

“And to want to stomp on his toes," I added.

We both shared a laugh. He then asked questions about my life before all this. There was no way to tell time in this place. I have no idea how long we talked, but it felt like forever. I told him almost everything. Some stuff I've hidden from those close to me, I told him. And I felt he did the same.

At some point, I realized he seemed a bit tired, but he continued asking and answering questions. 

He yawned, “You know, I always wanted an orange tabby as a kid. I wanted to name him Kit. But—" another yawn. “My father was allergic and di—" And finally, I heard light snoring."

He slept for a very long time. I stopped hearing his light snore but continued to talk to him. I had guessed he had passed on. As I continued to grow tired, I knew that my time would come. 

My eyes closed with a relaxed heaviness. I panicked, and the tears started. This wasn't fair. All I wanted was the best for myself. I knew that lying would have consequences. But it was all I understood. My charm just wasn't enough.

I hope in my next life, people won't hate me and will adore me.

I closed my eyes.

And slept.