"Welcome to Alies Seres," said the doorman—who was apparently armed with a bow for some reason—as he held the door open.
The moment we stepped inside, I understood why Selena had been so excited.
"Holy shit."
This wasn't a café. This was what happened when someone with too much money decided they wanted to drink coffee in a palace. Everything from the marble floors to the crystal chandeliers screamed expensive. The staff moved around like they were performing ballet, and every customer looked like they could buy and sell me ten times over.
This place catered to people earning at least two thousand points a month. Minimum.
"Let's sit over there." Selena was already pulling me toward a table on the second floor, where we'd have a perfect view of the entire establishment.
The place buzzed with quiet conversation and the gentle clinking of actual silverware. Everyone here looked like they belonged in a magazine.
"Waiter!" Selena called out, practically vibrating with excitement.
She thinks this is a date, Nelia's voice drifted through my head, sounding amused. Unlike a certain dense fool who remains perpetually clueless.
Nelia, for your punishment, you're going to be my personal maid. Permanently visible. You'll do every chore, and I'll make sure you learn some proper respect. The things I have planned for you...
Her immediate shiver was deeply satisfying.
"What would you like?" A waitress appeared with practiced grace, handing us menus.
I opened mine and nearly choked.
Thirty points for a cup of water. Thirty. For water.
"I'll have the melted—" Selena started, then stopped mid-sentence.
"What's wrong?"
She didn't answer, just stared past me. I followed her gaze to see the waitress looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite place.
"What would you like, handsome?" the waitress asked, gently placing her hand over mine.
Handsome? When had that happened?
Don't let her fool you—you're still below average! Nelia screeched in my head, clearly panicking about my earlier threats.
Shut it.
Was the waitress mistaking me for some kind of noble? "Um, this one, please." I yanked my hand away and pointed to the cheapest item I could find. "And give her whatever she was about to order."
"Of course." The waitress smiled and walked away, blushing like an idiot.
Nobody in this world was normal.
"Wait here," Selena said, standing up.
"Why? We just got here."
"I want to change my order." She nodded toward the retreating waitress.
"We can just call her back—"
She pressed a finger to my lips. "I also want to fix my makeup."
"You're not wearing any makeup."
"I am, it's just subtle. I don't need much to look good for you." Her smile looked strained. "Or do I?"
Something was definitely wrong. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was pissed.
Before I could respond, she walked away in the direction the waitress had gone.
Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
Why do you think you're average-looking? Nelia asked.
Because I know I'm average.
But why do you know that?
You literally just said it yourself.
That was just me being...
Being what?
You're an idiot.
Takes one to know one.
Why are you so dense when it comes to women?
I thought about it for a moment. Probably because I only ever had one serious girlfriend. Renay was... possessive. She didn't like me talking to other girls, so she made sure I didn't. I was pretty much a loner anyway, and she was the only person I really talked to for years. She's the one who made me realize I was average-looking—said it enough times that I figured it must be true. But she claimed she didn't care about my looks, that she liked me the way I was.
Thinking about Renay brought up memories I'd rather not examine too closely. There had been something off about the way she'd acted around other girls, the way those girls tended to disappear from my life afterward. But I'd never regretted having her as my girlfriend. She'd made my colorless world interesting, at least while it lasted.
Who was this girl? Nelia's voice had taken on an edge I couldn't identify.
Someone from my past.
Before Nelia could respond, a new voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Hi! We're in the same class, right?" The voice was sweet enough to cause diabetes.
I looked up to see pink hair and matching eyes, a figure that belonged on magazine covers, and a smile that had every guy in the vicinity forgetting they'd brought dates.
"Liliana," I muttered.
Fuck.