The crescent moon hung low over the grove, its light filtering through the thick canopy of trees, casting silver beams across the forest floor. Every shadow seemed alive, moving with the soft rustle of the wind. In the center of the grove, Selene stood, her breath catching as she laid eyes on the prince standing before her—Alderon.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped forward, her gaze locked on his. This was the moment she had dreamed of, the pull between them undeniable, drawing her closer. His broad shoulders, his dark, brooding eyes that seemed to peer right into her soul—everything about him called to her in a way she couldn’t explain.
“Alderon,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet night, but he heard it, his sharp gaze turning toward her as if he had been waiting for this moment too.
Okay, okay, we’re doing it! A REAL, romantic moment. No glitches, no chaos. Just pure fantasy romance. We’re staying focused here, folks.
Alderon (at least she thought it was Alderon) took a step closer, his boots crunching softly on the fallen leaves. His cape swirled with the movement—because of course it did—his dark eyes glinting under the moonlight as if he held all the answers. But there was something different in his expression, something she couldn't quite place.
"Selene," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, like the weight of the night pressing in around them. He reached out, his hand hovering just inches from her arm, as though hesitant to make contact.
YES! We’ve got this! I’m nailing this scene.
Something’s wrong. Selene couldn’t shake the feeling, and it wasn’t just the looming shadows in the trees. It should have felt right. The romance, the setting, the tension. But it didn’t.
She stepped back, her skin prickling with an odd sensation, as if someone was watching. Someone besides Alderon.
Okay, this scene should be perfect. I mean, moonlit grove, shadowy prince, longing stares—this is textbook romance. But… it’s not landing. What gives?
"Selene," Alderon said again, though now his brow furrowed. “Are you all right? You look... distant.”
She blinked, her pulse quickening as a flicker of something crossed his face—something that wasn’t quite Alderon. "I—" Her voice faltered. It was on the tip of her tongue, the wrong name, the wrong connection.
But before she could say anything, the air around them seemed to ripple.
Wait. What? Am I writing this?
The moonlight shimmered, bending as if the entire scene were part of a reflection in disturbed water. Selene’s vision swam for a moment, and when she blinked again, the figure before her wasn’t quite the same.
It was him—but it wasn’t.
"Alderon?" she asked, her voice wavering.
He hesitated, his hand still hovering near her. His jaw clenched, and for a brief second, his entire form seemed to glitch, like an old movie reel skipping frames.
"I... don’t think that's right." His voice was still Alderon’s, but his eyes flickered with confusion, as though he were trying to place himself. “Am I… Alderon?”
The name hung between them like a question neither of them knew how to answer.
No, no, no. This isn’t happening. I didn’t write this. Did I? Why are they doing this? We just got past the name crisis!
Selene blinked again, shaking her head as if to clear the strange fog clouding her thoughts. “You’re Alderon. You have to be.”
But even as she said it, the name sounded foreign on her tongue. Her chest tightened, a sense of dread creeping up her spine. She stepped back once more, pulling away from his hand, her heart pounding harder.
"Wait," Alderon said—no, not Alderon. Elric.
Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know how she knew, but it was undeniable. This wasn’t Alderon.
It was Elric.
“I—” Selene shook her head again, trying to make sense of it. "No, you’re—"
“Elric,” he said softly, as if testing the name himself. And then his eyes widened, realization dawning as the weight of his name settled into place. "Elric. Yes, that’s right."
Selene’s pulse quickened, her thoughts spiraling. The two names, the two lives—Alderon and Elric—were tangled inside her mind, like threads in an unraveling tapestry. Which one was real? Which one was hers?
The trees around them shivered as if the entire world trembled with the instability of the narrative.
Oh my God, it’s happening again. The timeline is unraveling faster than I can fix it. I need to—wait, am I seriously panicking over my own story? Pull it together, Bree.
Before I could process what was happening, a sharp voice cut through the night air, like the snap of a whip.
“Really, Bree? Are we doing this again?”
Selene spun toward the sound, her breath catching in her throat as a figure stepped out of the shadows.
Iris, in all her no-nonsense, editor-on-a-deadline glory, strode into the scene with a look of deep disapproval etched on her face. She flipped through her notebook, her steps precise, as if she’d done this a thousand times before.
“Name changes? Again? You’re supposed to be writing a coherent romance, not a glitching simulation.”
Selene stared, her confusion deepening. "Who... who are you?"
Iris shot her a dismissive glance. "Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetie. You’re not supposed to be aware of this. I’m just here to fix Bree’s mess."
Ugh, not Iris. Why is she here? I’m doing fine! This is all under control!
Iris turned her glare to Elric—or Alderon? Even I wasn’t sure anymore. “And you.” She pointed at him with her pen. “Pick a name and stick to it. You’re confusing everyone.”
Elric’s—no, Alderon’s—face tightened, his expression turning into a mix of defiance and confusion. "I’m... Elric."
Iris nodded, clearly unimpressed. “Finally. Now, stay that way.”
Before either of them could respond, the scene shifted again. The air shimmered, and with a blink, the grove seemed to expand, the shadows deepening, and—
Wait.
Another figure appeared at the edge of the clearing. Her long auburn hair shimmered under the moonlight, her eyes sharp with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.
Selene’s heart skipped a beat.
It was her.
Or... not exactly. But it was her.
Elara stepped forward, her expression a mirror of Selene’s confusion. “You,” she said, pointing at Selene. “Who the hell are you?”
Oh no, this is bad. Very, very bad.
Selene froze, her pulse racing. This wasn’t just some glitch. This was—
“I’m... I’m Selene,” she said, though her voice wavered. “Who are you?”
Elara crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. “Elara. The real heroine of this story. Or at least I was before you showed up.”
Selene felt the words hit her like a punch to the gut. The real heroine?
“I—”
“Enough.” Iris cut in, her tone sharp as she waved her pen like a wand. “This is ridiculous, Bree. You’re breaking all the rules. There can’t be two of them. You have to choose.”
But I don’t want to choose!
"Okay, but like, does it even matter?" I tried to sound casual, but internally I was already cringing.
"It does matter," Iris snapped. “Romance Fantasy means the romance drives the story, Bree. This is what I was talking about when we worked on Haunted Life—you turned every haunting into an opportunity to get followers on TikTok! You're doing it again, but now with—what is this? Timeline glitches? Wrong names? Do you ever take anything seriously?"
Elara and Selene stared at each other, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Elric (Alderon?) stood frozen in place, caught between them, his own confusion mirroring theirs.
"Who are you?" Elara asked again, her voice low, filled with accusation. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Selene opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. What could she even say? She didn’t have the answers.
But before anyone could say anything more, the ground beneath them trembled. A low, ominous rumble rolled through the grove, and the trees shuddered as though they too were caught in the fracture of the narrative.
Elara and Selene locked eyes once more, but this time, it wasn’t just confusion between them. It was something more—something darker.
Oh God, it’s happening. I’ve completely lost control. I need to fix this. I need to—
The tremor intensified, and a sharp crack split the air.
From the shadows, a figure emerged, cloaked in darkness, her presence sending a chill through the grove. The same figure who had warned Alderon—no, Elric—before.
She stepped forward, her voice low, filled with malice. “You think you can outrun the truth, Prince Elric?” she hissed, her gaze shifting to Selene and Elara. “You think you can keep your identities intact?”
Selene’s breath hitched, and she stumbled back. Elric’s—Alderon’s?—eyes widened, recognition dawning.
And then the figure’s eyes landed on me.
“Yes, Bree,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. “You can’t hide behind your chaos forever.”
Oh... crap.
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