1 Everyone noticed I wasn't chasing Asher anymore. Including Asher himself. After class, he blocked my path, his face cold. "About the other night," he said. "I'm only explaining this once. Believe it or not, it's up to you." "Mia was being hassled by some drunk guys. I went to help." "I was wrong for forgetting to text you." The "other night" was his birthday. He was in a fight for Mia, while I waited for him at the amusement park. All day. So, he thought I was just sulking about that. I shook my head. "It doesn't matter." Then, under his dark, unreadable gaze, I quietly walked past him. He didn't know that because he'd ditched me again, the system had declared my mission a failure. In one month, I would be "erased" and sent back to my real world. And this body would be given back to its original owner. 2 The third time the park employee told me they were closing, the system in my head sighed. Flora, let's go home. Asher isn't coming. He's with Mia right now. He's completely forgotten he was supposed to meet you. I stomped my aching feet, picked up the cake box, and turned to leave. "Okay." All the excitement from that morning had been ground down to nothing. All I felt was a flat, gray calm. Even when the system announced my failure. In one month, you will be in a severe car accident. This is your punishment for failing the mission. While you are in a coma from the injuries, I will send your soul back to the real world. This body will be taken over by the original Flora. After delivering the notice, the system went silent. I pulled out my phone to call a ride-share. The battery icon was red. 1%. The screen went black. And I had no cash for a cab. I finally gave in and started the long walk home. I'd always known failure was a possibility. But in that moment, an overwhelming exhaustion flooded my body, making every step feel impossibly heavy. 3 The walk home took me past the school. It was a Saturday night. The campus should have been empty. But on a bench just outside the gates, I saw two familiar figures. Mia was holding a Hostess Cupcake with a single, unlit match stuck in the frosting. "I'm sorry, Asher..." she was saying, her voice soft. "I only just found out today was your birthday. I didn't have time to get a cake... I hope you don't mind this." The boy across from her had fresh cuts on his cheekbone. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead, mostly hidden by his messy bangs, giving him a lazy, restless look. He didn't seem to think the cupcake was ridiculous at all. He even took out a Zippo and lit the match. "I don't." His voice was as cool as ever. "I think it's great." But I could hear a trace of warmth in it. An attempt to soothe her. I couldn't help but remember last night. I was in the school's home-ec room, showing him the birthday cake I'd finally perfected after three failed attempts. "What do you think? Is it good?" He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. His eyes flicked to my hand, which was red and blistering from a burn. His voice was laced with annoyance. "Looking at your hand is enough to make me lose my appetite." I flushed, trying to hide my hand in my hoodie sleeve. He looked tired. He walked over, grabbed my wrist, and started dragging me to the pharmacy. "What are you hiding it for?" he snapped. "Don't you have a brain? You burn yourself, you use medicine." He looked furious, but his hands were incredibly gentle as he applied the burn cream. I'd worked up my courage again. "Asher... do you like the cake, though?" He stared at the blister, his brow furrowed. "It's ugly as hell." At the time, the system had comforted me: Don't listen to him! He's just mad you got hurt making it. He's just being difficult. He's worried about you! My thoughts snapped back to the present. I stood across the street, watching Asher gently reassure Mia that her last-minute cupcake was fine. It hit me, all at once. Even someone as difficult and angsty as Asher... when he actually likes someone, he can be gentle. He can pull in his thorns. He can be careful with her feelings, so she doesn't feel small. I didn't know what Asher felt for me. But I knew, with certainty, that it wasn't love. 4 I turned to leave. "Flora?" Mia spotted me. "What are you doing here?" Asher's head whipped around. His eyes landed on the cake box in my hand, and he froze. He'd just remembered. Mia saw the cake, too. "Oh! You were looking for Asher, weren't you?" "I heard you were supposed to celebrate at the amusement park today." "I'm so sorry, Flora. He had to ditch you because of me." Her apology was lazy, almost automatic. Like she was already used to Asher dropping everything for her, and she knew I wouldn't—couldn't—do anything about it. I'd just sulk for a day, then go right back to chasing him. I shook my head, denying her first question. "I was just passing by." Asher stared at me, his expression unreadable. Mia just smiled, clearly assuming I was making a pathetic excuse to save face. "Well," she said, "since you brought the cake anyway, we can celebrate now!" She reached for the box. I stepped back, moving it out of her reach. "It's spoiled," I said. "You can't eat it." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's... it's getting late. I'm going home." "Bye." Mia looked genuinely surprised. Usually, I'd use any excuse to stick to Asher's side. Now, I was willingly leaving them alone. I walked a few steps, then remembered. I turned back, embarrassed. "Mia? Can I borrow twenty bucks? My phone's dead, and I can't get a cab." "I'll take you." Asher spoke the instant I finished, his voice fast and tight. I acted like I hadn't heard him. Mia fumbled in her purse. "Oh! Uh, sure..." She handed me a bill. "Thanks. I'll pay you back on Monday." I took the money and left. From start to finish, I never looked at Asher once. 5 Maybe because I knew I was going home soon, I dreamed of my old life. I was in a massive college lecture hall, reading a novel and sobbing. My friend passed me a tissue. "I thought you said that was a romance?" "It is," I hiccupped. "But not for the second male lead, Asher. His life is just... tragic." "He's been in love with the main girl, Mia, since high school. But he's poor and has all this baggage, so he never tells her. He just... protects her from the shadows, even after he becomes this huge CEO." "And the worst part! He spends all of high school being bullied by the villainess, this rich, evil bitch named Flora!" My friend checked the cover. "Her name's Flora, your name's Laura. Kinda close." I slammed the book down. "Don't remind me. It's humiliating." That night, I woke up in the book. As Flora. The system's directive was simple: Win Asher's heart. In this timeline, I was the person he hated most. Difficulty: SSS-level. The system sounded bored as it looked at me, practically vibrating with excitement. This is a hell-mode mission. Why are you so happy? "Because I can change it! I can fix his awful teenage years!" I was so happy I was bouncing. "I'm going to give him everything. He'll never have to suffer again!" The system had no faith in me. It said it was just counting down the days until it had to send me back. I spent two years trying to break down his walls. I chipped away at his hatred. His "affection" meter got so high that even the system thought I might actually win. But I still failed. In the end, I couldn't even blame Asher. He was written to love Mia. It was his entire character. Putting her first was his default. It's a simple truth I only managed to understand once I finally stopped loving him. 6 I'd been out in the wind all night. I woke up the next morning, unsurprisingly, with a nasty cold. After taking some medicine, I got a call from one of Asher's friends. "Flora! Hey, Asher's doing a re-do for his birthday today." "At the amusement park, the one you guys were supposed to go to. You coming?" Asher never cared about birthdays. I knew what this was. It was a peace offering for standing me up. My voice was thick with congestion. "You guys have fun. I'm... I'm going to the library." The guy's voice got muffled. "Ash! Flora said she's not coming." A few seconds of silence, then I heard Asher's short, sharp laugh. It was full of scorn. "Whatever. Let her." I wasn't surprised. That was the most I could expect from him. It was, for Asher, a major concession. I coughed, a dry, racking sound. The friend was back on the phone. "Whoa, Flora, you sound sick." "Okay, you know what? Never mind. You just rest up." Right before he hung up, I heard him ask, "Hey, where'd Ash go?" Someone else answered, "Looked like he was heading to the pharmacy." "Why? His face is fine, he just changed the bandages..." "Dunno." 7 I went to the library with Ryan. Ryan. The real Flora's childhood best friend. And the only person in this world who knew I was a "transmigrator." He'd figured me out a few weeks after I arrived. He'd just stared at me, his eyes narrowed. "Stop lying," he'd scoffed. "You can't fool me. I know Flora better than anyone." After I told him the truth, he was stunned... for about five minutes. Then he just accepted it. Maybe because I looked like his friend. He'd been good to me these last two years. One of my only real friends here. On the way to the library, I told him the mission had failed. "So, that's it? You're leaving in a month?" "Yep. The real Flora gets her body back soon. You'll have your best friend back." Ryan's messenger bag bumped against his back as he walked. He gave a short laugh but didn't say anything. His eyes looked empty. 8 We stayed until the library closed. Ryan's house was right next to mine. When we got to his gate, I stopped to say goodnight. But Ryan was just... staring. Motionless. I followed his gaze. To my front porch. Asher was standing there, his black windbreaker making his pale face look even colder. The cuts on his cheek and jaw made him look feral. He was holding a small paper bag from a pharmacy. I turned back to Ryan. "Well, you're home. I'll see you tomorrow. 'Night." He knew I didn't want him involved. He just nodded. "Text me if you need anything." I heard his front door click shut. Asher's gaze shifted to me as I walked up the path. "Do you need something?" I asked. He ignored me. "You're sick?" he demanded. "You were laughing with him just fine. You looked pretty healthy to me." As if on cue, my throat itched. I broke into a fit of coughing. The scorn in his eyes faded. I sniffled. "If that's all, I'm going inside." He moved, blocking the door. A wave of cold radiated off him. He must have been standing out here for hours. "You're sick. What the hell are you doing running around with him?" He shoved the pharmacy bag at me. "And about the other night," he said, his voice clipped. "I'm only explaining this once. Believe it or not, it's up to you." He wasn't good at apologies. It came out stiff. "Mia was being hassled by some drunk guys. I went to help." "But I forgot to text you. I made you wait. That was my fault." I'd never, ever heard him clarify or apologize for anything. I was... shocked. But that's all. The old fluttery feeling was gone. I pushed the bag back at him. "Thanks, but I can't take this. I can buy my own medicine." I looked up at him. "And I accept your apology." "Is there anything else? I'm really tired." Asher's jaw tightened. He just stared at me. He was searching my face, silently asking, What is wrong with you? When he didn't say anything, I took it as a 'no.' "Bye, then." I sidestepped him and went inside. From my bedroom window, I looked down. He stood frozen on the sidewalk for a long time. Then, as if he finally understood, he let out a bitter laugh. He tossed the bag of medicine into the neighbor's trash can and walked away. I think he finally got it. I wasn't sulking. I was done.
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