Chapter 6 – The Mary Sue in Distress
I really hate that bitch of a partner.
And yeah, you could say I just pulled a complete 180 on her, because I did. Things seemed fine as we wrapped up tea and polished off those pancakes, drenched in rich maple syrup, paired bizarrely with a Caesar salad. The flavors still lingered, the syrup’s sweetness mixing with the tang of dressing, when the bill hit the table like a thunderclap.
Myrrh’s eyes went wide, her pupils shrinking in disbelief as she stared at the numbers. It was like watching someone spot a ghost in broad daylight. Her hand trembled as she snapped open her wallet, revealing a hollow, empty space that echoed her next sound—a high-pitched, pathetic little "oopsie." I felt my stomach sink.
“Hey, Zaft…” she said, forcing a smile so strained that even her face didn’t buy it. A single bead of sweat rolled down her temple, trailing slowly toward her flushed cheek. It was all too obvious where this was headed.
“What is it?” I asked flatly, already knowing the answer.
She flipped her wallet upside-down and flapped it like it might suddenly produce cash out of thin air. Nothing—no bills, no coins, not even a card. Her face, still twisted into that fake smile, was practically begging.
“You’re a gentleman, right? And since you asked me out on a date, you should cover this… right?”
I kept my expression deadpan, meeting her eyes. “I’m pretty sure we both agreed this wasn’t a date. And if I recall, you were the one who asked me out.”
“Ack…” Myrrh sputtered, choking on her own words. Then, in typical fashion, she narrowed her eyes, a sly, mischievous grin creeping onto her lips. “Fine then. I’ll forgive you for the sins you committed during the tutorial test earlier—if you cover the bill this time.”
I let out a long, weary sigh. Part of me wanted to see her in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes as punishment for not being able to pay. The thought amused me, but it wasn’t worth the hassle, especially since I’d probably end up back there beside her. It was getting late, and all I wanted was to go home and leave this farce behind.
Resigned, I pulled out my wallet, thumbing through the bills. Myrrh, ever the opportunist, clapped her hands together in glee, her sparkling blue eyes lighting up as if she’d just won the lottery.
“Thank you for the save, Zaft!” she cooed, resting her head on the table, a rosy blush creeping across her cheeks. Her smile was sweet, almost adorable—almost.
“Just so we’re clear,” I muttered, glancing at her, “you’ll still have to pay your share.”
She waved it off with a carefree giggle, her blush deepening. “Fine, fine! Friday, I promise!” Her voice was light and playful. “Thank you, Zaft! You’re the best!”
I could hardly stand her manipulation. Not even an hour ago, she’d called me a hooligan who drops common loot, and now she’s showering me with praise, as if I’d suddenly become her hero. The audacity of this bitch was almost impressive.
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Myrrh and I walked back toward the university block, the quiet late afternoon air wrapping around us like a soft blanket. The campus dormitory area was split into two compounds: the left side housed the male dormitories, while the right was reserved for the ladies—a fact society must find amusing since they like to say women are always right. The towering buildings stood like silent sentinels as we approached the main gate.
When we reached the entrance, Myrrh flashed me a cheerful smile, waving goodbye with that annoyingly sweet expression. “Thanks for your time, Zaft. See you tomorrow!”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” I replied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. As soon as we parted ways, I felt the weight of the day settle in. Glancing down at my wallet, which now felt pathetically light, I muttered under my breath, “Bitch.”
I continued my walk to the left compound, where the male dormitory loomed ahead—a towering condo-like building that seemed more imposing in the fading light. The automatic doors slid open with a soft hum as I stepped inside and made my way to the elevator. The ride to the fourth floor felt slow, giving me more time to stew in my thoughts. How had I spent over two hours with her? I originally couldn’t imagine lasting more than five minutes in Myrrh’s company without wanting to claw my own eyes out.
By the time I exited the elevator, it was already five o’clock. I hadn’t realized how much time I had lost.
Scratch that. As much as I hated to admit it, Myrrh had been the person I spent most of my time with today. Here at this university on a foreign planet, making friends was tougher than I’d anticipated. The students here seemed more self-sufficient, with their own goals and agendas that left little room for casual connections.
It’s a bitter truth, but knowing someone—anyone—in this place made things a little easier. Despite the bickering and constant trolling, I found myself actually enjoying Myrrh’s company. There was something oddly comforting about the banter, a distraction from the solitude that came with being in a new world.
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After stripping off my uniform, I tossed it aside, leaving myself in just boxers as I flopped onto the bed. I stared at the dirty white ceiling, its cracks and stains a familiar sight, then turned my gaze to the window.
The sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the room. That light… it was the same golden hue as back on Earth. For a moment, it pulled me into a not-so-distant memory of Myrrh Alicent, one that tugged at my thoughts like the last rays of the setting sun.
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It happened a few months before our high school graduation, on the afternoon before prom night back on Earth. I remember the air was thick with excitement and anticipation, with preparations for the big event in full swing. While everyone else was bustling around, me and the boys found ourselves in our usual hideout—the shadowy side of the bleachers by the basketball court.
The court was the closest spot to the gymnasium, where prom night would be held, and since we were early and the usual school rules had been loosened for the occasion, we had free reign. Naturally, we took full advantage, losing ourselves in the glowing screens of our phones, playing co-op gacha games like our lives depended on it.
As we were immersed in our virtual battles, a familiar silhouette caught our attention. It was Ephraim Park, the high school heartthrob. Tall, pale-skinned, and effortlessly handsome, Ephraim had that classic Korean look—a perfectly sculpted face and spiky hair that always seemed to fall just right. On top of his looks, he was the valedictorian and a star varsity basketball player. Mister Perfect, as we called him, wasn’t just some pretty face; he was genuinely kind, smart, and talented, which only made him seem more untouchable.
If me and the boys approached Ephraim, we’d look like goblins standing next to an angel. Even though he was friendly and approachable, there was an unspoken rule among us—we kept our distance. He existed in a world we didn't belong to.
Ephraim stood by the court for what felt like ages, a red handkerchief clutched in his hand. He looked lost, his green eyes fixed on the ground, his usual bright demeanor dimmed by something we couldn’t quite place. It was strange seeing him like that, especially when he was dressed to perfection, as always.
"Hey, let's go," Jace, one of my friends, tapped me on the shoulder, breaking the moment. "The class might need some help with the prom preparations."
“Okay then—” I started to reply. But just as I was about to push myself off the bleacher, my eyes landed on the last person I wanted to see: Myrrh Alicent. It was weeks after the infamous scolding session she’d put me through, and the air between us was still thick with awkwardness. I really didn’t want to deal with her right now.
Jace, oblivious to the drama unfolding, slipped past Myrrh and headed towards the gym without a hitch. Myrrh, however, barely acknowledged either of us. Her usually vibrant blue eyes were now clouded with sorrow, and it looked like she might start crying any moment.
Curiosity got the better of me. I decided to stay hidden behind the bleachers, letting Jace go on without me. I was intrigued by what might transpire between these two. Both of them seemed to be grappling with some heavy emotions, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the source of their distress.
Ephraim and Myrrh stood facing each other, a chasm of silence stretching between them. The quiet was so profound it made me yawn.
Finally, Ephraim spoke, his voice cutting through the tension. “I’m sorry, Myrrh.”
Myrrh’s response was a tremulous whisper. “W-why are you apologizing, Ephraim?” Her voice quivered as she forced a shaky smile. “And why… why are you breaking up with me?”
Ephraim’s expression was solemn, his eyes steady but filled with a sadness that matched hers. “It’s not you. It’s me, Myrrh. I’ve fallen out of love. You’re kind and righteous, but you’re such a Mary Sue that you don’t excite me anymore.”
“Is that the reason you’re leaving me for Clarisse?” Myrrh’s voice was strained as she clutched her chest, as if trying to hold her heart together.
Ephraim’s gaze dropped to the ground, his face turned away in a mix of shame and sorrow. “W-well…” He hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “Clarisse makes my heart race with joy. I know she’s got a reputation—she’s notorious among the boys, and yes, she has her issues—but she brings me a kind of happiness I’ve never felt before. With her, I feel alive. We complement each other in ways I never thought possible, filling gaps in our souls.”
Myrrh’s eyes widened with a mix of anger and pain, tears streaming down her face. “Y-yeah, right. Leave me for that drug-addicted hooker who belongs in the streets,” she spat out, her voice cracking.
Ephraim’s face hardened, and his voice roared with a fierce intensity. “Don’t you dare speak about my love like that!” He advanced toward her, the raw anger in his voice trembling with each word. “That’s exactly the problem with you! You’re so obsessed with your sense of justice and perfection that you look down on anyone who doesn’t meet your standards. You never consider what others feel or think!”
“Fine then! Leave me! Throw away all the years of our friendship for that woman of yours, you cheater!” Myrrh’s voice broke into a sob as she shouted, her heartbreak evident in every word.
Ephraim’s fists clenched tightly around the red handkerchief, his knuckles white with the effort. With a final, pained glance, he bowed his head and walked away, leaving Myrrh standing there, tears streaming down her face as he quietly exited the scene.
Man, this scene could have been ripped straight from a telenovela. Good thing I’m not into romance; otherwise, I’d be stuck navigating this melodramatic mess through my high school years. Maybe I should’ve brought some popcorn to fully appreciate the spectacle.
I was about to sneak away, eager to escape the emotional wreckage, when a piercing cry shattered the evening’s stillness.
“UWAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
It was Myrrh Alicent, the once-perfect girl—dubbed a Mary Sue by many—now reduced to a pitiful sight. She was on her knees, her pristine white gown now stained and dirtied. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with snot as she cried uncontrollably. The raw, unfiltered distress was almost too much to bear, especially as she began her tearful monologue.
“You’re my childhood friend, Ephraim! We’ve been together for ten years! You promised me you’d make me your bride in the future! You said I’d be your wife! Your… wife! Uwaaaaah!”
I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I tried to process the scene. Despite our hostility, I couldn’t stand to see someone so utterly heartbroken, especially someone who was usually so put-together. It tugged at something in me, and I found myself reluctantly moved by her anguish.
Resolving to at least offer a semblance of comfort, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the pink handkerchief my mother had given me. It was a small, sentimental token that I’d kept with me.
With a sigh, I stepped forward, closing the distance between us. As I approached the once-unapproachable Mary Sue now in distress, I offered the pink handkerchief to her, my initial intention of mockery melting away. Seeing her so heartbroken, my resolve softened, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for her.